


Family

by Snailhair



Series: Solo [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angry Dean, Bitchy Dean, Blow Jobs, Bottom Dean, Conflict Resolution, Dean and Gabriel trying to one-up each other, Destiel - Freeform, Explicit Sexual Content, Family, Fluff, Hilarious, Humor, M/M, Prank Wars, Pranks, Rough Sex, Sabriel - Freeform, Smut, Sub Dean, Top Cas, dom Cas, emotional angst, slight angst, trying to get along
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-06
Updated: 2017-03-12
Packaged: 2018-09-29 20:08:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 38,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10143005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snailhair/pseuds/Snailhair
Summary: After finding out that his little brother is sleeping with the trickster, Dean tries to find a way to cope with Sam's new love interest and put Gabriel in his place. All while trying to figure out how Castiel fits into his definition of "Family."





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, everyone! And welcome to part five of the Solo Series! :D As you probably already know, from here on out, this fic will contain Sabriel on the side - with Sam and Gabriel's version, "Sweet and Sour," as its companion. ;) I also want to note that I've been told by some readers that Dean in this part acts rather "bitchy" and "rude." And I'm sorry if he comes off as a total prick. But all will be well in the end. I promise. ;) Without further ado, I give you "Family!" Please enjoy! :)

No matter how much Dean tried to scrape together a good explanation as to why Sam and Gabriel were standing so close to each other in the hotel hallway while clearly wearing each others' clothes, logic just wouldn't let him. As much as it baffled Dean's mind, there was only one glaringly obvious conclusion to be drawn from the sight of Gabriel drowning in Sam's baggy shirt and Sam barely being contained inside those tight boxer-briefs. It meant the two of them had swapped clothes. Which meant they had taken them off. Which meant... they had _been naked together_.

“Wh – what the hell is going on?!” Dean attempted to shout, only it came out as a raspy gasp.

It felt like a swarm of hornets were zooming all around the cavity of Dean's chest as he glanced in horror from his brother to the trickster beside him. It was no secret that Gabriel's signature talent was dicking around with people; tricking them into destroying themselves or lying to them in order to gain something. The only thing that bastard knew how to do was screw everything up. And it chilled Dean to the bone to think that Gabriel had been tricking _Sammy_ like that for God-only-knows how long. Right under Dean's nose. The same way he did at the damn mystery spot.

“You took the words right outta my mouth.”

Dean blinked down at the archangel, astounded at the amount of calmness that resonated in his voice. Gabriel's golden eyes were flickering between Dean and Cas while a smile played on his lips.

“Cassie? You're riding the Winchester Bandwagon, too?” he asked as the smile finally burst across his smug, annoying face, “For once, it looks like you've beaten me to the punch! Props, lil' bro. Didn't think you had it in you.”

A small tingle of embarrassment mixed in with Dean's anger as he felt Cas inch closer to his back. Oh, shit. He forgot that Cas and Gabriel were technically brothers. Did that make a difference somehow? Did the archangel have a protective sense over Cas, like Dean did for Sam?

Dean was suddenly tugging his stare away from Gabriel and shifting his sight toward Sam. Sammy was already looking back at him, wearing a fearful and weary expression, appearing like a kid whose parent had just caught him sneaking his girlfriend in through the bedroom window. The swarm of hornets buzzing in Dean's chest were beginning to sting as he and Sam shared this tense stare. There was no denying that it was time for the two of them to sit down – alone – and have an honest conversation. Without the distraction of halos and fluffy wings.

“Sam,” Dean growled, reaching out to firmly clutch his brothers arm, “We need to talk.”

Before Sam had time to argue, Dean yanked him away from the group. The younger brother's huge feet clomped nervously against the soft hotel carpet as Dean led them away. All the doors in the hallway looked the same all of the sudden, with teasingly similar paint jobs and wooden frames. For God's sake, which door was his?! Just as Dean recognized the sight of the golden-plated 69b, Gabriel's distant voice was calling to them.

“Hey, I'm gonna need that peach back when you're done,” he yelled, sounding oh-so chipper, “and it better be in perfect condition, too!”

Dean tried his best to ignore the tricksters strange words as he shoved the way inside the room. Whatever the hell Gabriel was rambling about only made the hornets sting without remorse. Did the guy really just refer to Sam as a _peach_? And in the same tone that a flirty playboy would give a cat-call to a hot chick? Ugh! This was all too much...

Dean felt his stomach beginning to turn with the morbid thoughts taking place in his head as he yanked his little brother into room 69b and slammed the door shut behind them. It was a bit darker in here and eerily silent. And, unfortunately, the air still housed a faint scent of Dean and Cas's sex. The cart of pie was still cornered next to the unmade bed and the furniture was still tossed about. But Dean ignored his own broken hotel room to focus on his little brother.

Sam edged his way over to stand against the wall opposite Dean, bracing his back against the flat surface and taking deliberate breaths. Sammy still looked scared out of his mind, pale and wide-eyed with his fingers nearly trembling at his sides. And the kid had every right to be afraid. Because Dean wasn't sure exactly how he was supposed to react to all of this. The piercing hornet stings were starting pissing him off. After a few ticks of silent staring, Dean simply opened his hands in disbelief.

“What the hell, Sam?” he breathed, his shoulders squaring.

It was the only thing Dean could think of to say and he truly wanted an answer. He watched Sam's massive Adam's apple rise and fall with a sharp thud, able to see the terror glowing in the kid's eyes.

“Dean,” Sam started in, his voice high and unmistakably defensive, “I know this looks bad -”

“ _Looks bad?!_ ” Dean repeated, his forceful heartbeat rattling his ribcage, “Sam, you're wearing polka-dot midget boxers! Forget 'bad!' This looks freakin' _horrifying_!”

Sammy's eyes fell briefly to his own crotch – where it looked like he was smuggling a Vlasic pickle and a couple of tennis balls underneath some circus tent fabric – before glancing back up with defiance.

“Well, it's no worse than you standing naked inside Cas's trench coat, is it?” he spat in return, visibly trembling.

Dean gulped, instinctively patting the warm tan fabric against his thighs. He couldn't deny that Sam had a point. But this wasn't about Dean and Cas. This was about Gabriel screwing around with Sam. This was about the trickster toying with the one and only person Dean had spent his whole life trying to protect.

“Don't try to turn this around,” Dean warned, “That filthy liar out there has done something to you and I wanna know what the hell it is. Tell me the truth, Sam, dammit. Look me in the eye and tell me what is going on!”

“Okay!” Sam exclaimed, having to pause to breathe before continuing, “I – I'm – I'm with Gabriel, alright?”

Dean blinked, trying to let his little brother's words burrow deep into his mind. He honestly attempted to visualize the scenario in his head – Sam being all lovey-dovey with Gabriel, laughing and smiling and saying ' _no, you hang up_ ' on the phone – but he just couldn't believe it. Sam would never really consent to something like that, would he? Of the two Winchester siblings, Sammy was probably the normal one when it came to sex stuff. No kinks, no wacked-out fantasies, no angel fetishes... At least, none that Dean was aware of. So, to imagine Sam being intimate with someone like _Gabriel_ was just insane. Not to mention the blaring red flag of all the other shit the trickster had done to Sam in the past that could turn him off.

“No,” Dean said, shaking his head, “There's no way.”

“It's true, Dean,” Sam replied, nodding, “I – I know it's crazy, but we've been together -”

“For how long?” Dean blurted, suddenly trying to piece together a time line.

Sam gulped. His large eyes flickered away to glance around as if he were trying to count the days in his head. Dean resisted the urge to tap his foot with impatience. How long had the trickster been screwing around with his little brother behind his back?! Did Sam really need to think _this long_ about it?!

“Um, I guess... ever since the morning I had that candy necklace,” Sam seemed to mumble, still not meeting Dean's eyes.

Dean instantly recalled the object Sam mentioned and knew the exact day he was referring to. It had been the morning in the kitchen at Bobby's. The same morning Dean had to confess to Bobby that he and Cas were together. Sam had stumbled in wearing that ridiculous candy necklace, smelling like alcohol and bad decisions. Dean assumed Sam got drunk and made out with some chick – not Gabriel the freakin' archangel.

“I can't believe this,” Dean uttered, genuinely lost, “You're a lady's man, Sam! And now you're deciding to go on an all-archangel diet?! What about that girl at the diner yesterday?” Dean pointed out, remembering how friendly she had been with Sam, “She was practically offering herself to you on a golden plate, man. Were you not going to give her a chance?”

A flash of terror streaked across Sam's face at the mention of the girl at the diner. He flattened back against the wall again before fearfully bringing his eyes back to Dean's. Dean eyed his little brother with confusion. Why did bringing up the waitress make Sam uncomfortable?

“What?” Dean snapped.

Sam exhaled slowly and let his shoulders fall with defeat. He suddenly looked like a guilty sinner, preparing to confess to a priest. After a second or so of gathering courage, the younger brother finally spoke.

“Gabriel was the waitress,” he mumbled, lips barely moving.

Dean blinked. Did he just hear Sam correctly? Did Sam just say that _Gabriel_ was the _waitress_?

“Come again?” Dean asked, thinking he might have misheard Sammy's words. After all, there was no way that it was actually possible.

“The waitress at the diner,” Sam forced out, his cheeks appearing to redden, “It was Gabriel. He disguised himself.”

Though Dean's mind didn't want to believe it, his gut told him otherwise. Looking back with this new information, the waitress's bitchy demeanor made perfect sense. Her name calling and flat-out rudeness, it was all just Gabriel being a royal prick. And – Oh God, – it had been _Gabriel_ flirting with Sam like that! Patting his arm seductively and hitting on him! Ugh! Gabriel had been doing that shit right in front of Dean! And Dean felt strangely violated.

“Oh my God,” he grumbled, feeling himself turning pale, “That was – ! He – ! I was sitting right there!”

Sam nodded slowly, grimacing. The swarm of painful insects in Dean's chest seemed to be growing and multiplying, spreading out though his body like a buzzing cloud of rage. As he stood staring at his little brother, Dean's emotions began to over-take his reasoning. That manipulating, two-faced bastard! How _dare_ Gabriel try to play with Sam right in front of Dean! He must have balls of steel or something to think that Dean would just let this slide! Anger was pulsing through Dean's veins with every pound of his heart.

“Dean,” Sam said, taking a step forward to hold out a calming hand, “I like Gabriel, okay? I know it sounds ridiculous, but it's true. He's grown on me, man. And I can't -”

“You aren't seeing this clearly, Sam!” Dean nearly shouted, making Sam flinch back, “Gabriel is a liar and a cheat! How do you know he isn't poisoning you? Or tricking you into getting naked? Ugh! Please tell me you didn't have sex with him.”

Sam gulped, looking guilty as charged.

“Dean -”

“You _did?!_ Holy shit, Sammy! What the hell is the matter with you?!” Dean gasped, unable to stop the rage from flowing, now, “Do you know where that dick has been?! God only knows how many people the trickster has screwed!”

“Dean,” Sam repeated, looking defensive again, “I already asked -”

“No, stop!” Dean growled, feeling his blood boiling, “Stop defending him, Sam! He's not your friend. He's not a good guy. He _kills_ people for _fun_. You've seen it with your own eyes. Who's to say he wouldn't turn right around and gank you a couple hundred times, like he did to me, huh? How do you know he wouldn't find it funny to stuff your ass in hell again just to watch you burn?!”

“Dammit, Dean,” Sam snapped, “Would you just listen -”

“I'm not gonna let him hurt you, Sam!” Dean shouted, “You're my brother and I care about you! And I am not gonna stand by and watch you fall into another one of Gabriel's psychotic traps. I'm not gonna let him molest you against your will -”

“He's not molesting - ”

“ - or trick you into giving him what he wants! That bastard's got another thing coming, if he thinks he's gonna mess with you and not have me to answer to! I'm gonna end this, Sam, for your own good. I'm not gonna let you be manipulated like this anymore, understand?”

Sam was glaring at the floor with a few pieces of his lengthy hair hanging in his face, but Dean could still see the look of bitterness resting in his expression. His lips were pressed into a hard line and his fists were drawn on both sides of his waist. It took a moment for Sam to bring his sight back to Dean's stern stare, and when he did, Dean could see something he hadn't seen in Sam's eyes for a long time. Dean didn't know why it looked so familiar – until Sam finally spoke. The younger brother's tone was cold and callous, holding only the dried up remains of tarnished respect.

“Yes, sir.”

Sam's low voice seemed to each all the way inside Dean's chest and slice open his pounding heart. Dean's mouth slowly fell open and his fingers turned numb as he searched his little brother's hard face. Dean suddenly knew why that twinkle of bitterness gleaming in Sam's eyes looked so familiar. It was because this was how Sam looked at John Winchester; body tense with distrust and eyes holding fear buried under heaps of false courtesy. _Yes, sir._ They always had to say it, whether they wanted to or not. It was the old man's golden rule. And, God, Sam's tone had sounded just as cold as it did in their childhood.

But the worst part of all was that Sam said those words to _Dean_. He was responding to Dean with the same line he fed their father when he had enough of being told what to do. And it made Dean's stomach churn with disgust. John Winchester was something that Dean hoped he would never turn out to be. But here he was, scolding Sam in the same manner Dean had always feared John would do to him. Had Dean somehow turned into the person he feared the most?

Feeling lightheaded, Dean swayed a little bit before stepping back to lean against the wall behind him for support. His eyes were unfocused toward the broken shards of glass on the floor as the unwanted image of John Winchester returned to his mind. _That's my boy_ , he could hear his father saying, G _ood job, son_. Raspy breaths were escaping Dean's chapped lips in a hush. No. He didn't want to be the father that controlled everything. He just wanted to be a good brother.

“Dean.”

Dean swallowed harshly at the sound of Sam's soft voice. Sammy's tone was friendly now, almost apologetic. Dean forced himself to look back up at his little brother even though he felt almost too ashamed. Ah hell, he felt worse than shit, now. Sam never once said anything bad about Cas, did he? He never jumped down Dean's throat or accused him of being manipulated. Sam just... _accepted_ it. The younger brother took a large step forward in the small space behind the door and his eyes seemed to be full of regret.

“I – I'm sorry,” Sam breathed, sounding honest.

Dean's heart throbbed with pain.

“No,” he replied, giving his head a firm shake, “ _I'm_ sorry, Sammy. I didn't mean to upset you. I just... I want you to be alright.”

The tiniest smile seemed to flicker on Sam's mouth. He curled some of his long hair behind his ear and he nodded.

“I know,” he replied, “and I _am_ alright. Actually, Dean, I'm better than alright. Gabe really makes me happy.”

Dean couldn't stop his eyes from narrowing. Shit, hearing Sam talk about 'Gabe' in such a friendly tone was going to take some getting used to. Dean just couldn't see the trickster as anything more than what he knew him to be, which was just that; a freakin' trickster.

“Just give it a chance,” Sam requested, seeing Dean's hesitation, “If you just sat down and talked to him, you'd change your mind about him. Trust me, I would know. I had go through it myself.”

Dean was still rightfully skeptical. Sam was always willing to give someone a shot, but not Dean. Nope, you give most people an inch and they end up stealing a mile... But if this was something Sam really wanted, who was Dean to deny his little brother?

“Fine,” Dean forced out, still clinging to the wall behind him, “I'll give the prick a chance. But I want you to remember that I'm dong it for _you_ , Sam. Not him.”

A large exhale of relief seemed to escape Sam's mouth. Before Dean knew it, he was wrapped inside his brother's large arms, being hugged with nearly enough force to choke a bear.

“Thank you,” Sammy grinned, clinging to Dean's shoulders, “It – it means a lot to me, Dean.”

Dean squeaked under the tight grip as he bent an arm up to pat his little brother's bare back. He glanced down to see that they were still wearing their angels' clothes and couldn't help but think about how ridiculous this must appear to anyone who was out of the loop.

“Our lives could be a freakin' sitcom,” Dean grumbled against Sam's shoulder, rolling his eyes, “These are the kind of antics that belong on TV.”

Sam chuckled as he stood back up. Dean was glad to see the smile back on his little brother's face.

“No shit,” he mumbled, tugging the polka-dot fabric down his thighs, “So – so, are we good, now? You're not gonna kill Gabe, right?”

“As long as he doesn't give me a reason to,” Dean replied, still feeling an ache in his chest, “and he better not _ever_ give me a damn reason. I want to talk to him, too. But, I think we all need to change clothes first.”

The trench coats and underwear were a bit too much, Dean had to admit. He couldn't very well stare down Gabriel if the archangel was wearing Sam's shirt and nothing else. Ugh, just the remembrance of it gave Dean another shiver. Sam nodded at Dean's words.

“Okay. Let's meet downstairs in twenty minutes,” he suggested, edging toward the door.

Dean gulped as he watched Sam stepping back out into the hall. A large mass of discomfort had settled in the center of Dean's chest... and there was only one person that could really dig it back out.

“Hey,” Dean called after his brother, “Send Cas back in here, would you?”

An understanding smile rested on Sam's face.

“Sure.”

* * *

Castiel stood frozen in the hall as he watched Dean forcefully pulling Sam toward room 69b. The angel had half a mind to call out and stop them, because he knew Dean's anger was slowly on the rise and it might be only a matter of time before he exploded with rage. And it seemed that Gabriel could sense it as well.

“Hey, I'm gonna need that peach back when you're done,” the archangel called, causing Castiel to look in his direction, “and it better be in perfect condition, too!”

A few feet away, the Winchesters ducked inside the hotel room and the door slammed shut. Castiel's blue eyes rested upon Gabriel's familiar face now, blinking with sincere confusion. Cas had been aware that some angelic presence was following Sam around, but he had no idea that it was Gabriel. And the angel's mind was buzzing with questions about his interaction with Sam. But Gabriel was speaking before Castiel had time to ask.

“Well, well,” the archangel sighed, eying the entire length of Castiel's vessel, “Has anyone ever told you how good you look in denim? I'm tellin' you, bro. That Winchester-wear makes your eyes _pop_.”

“Why are you here, Gabriel?” Castiel asked, dismissing his brother's strange compliment, “What business do you have with Sam Winchester?”

Gabriel gave a hard chuckle, making his vessel's golden hair toss back with his head.

“You always were slow to catch on,” he mused, nudging Castiel's side, “Do the clothes not make it obvious enough? No? Then, fine. I'll put it in a way you'll understand,” Gabriel cleared his throat before continuing, “Sam is to Gabriel, as Dean is to Cas.”

Though Gabriel had molded his sentence into the form of a standardized test question, Castiel understood what he was attempting to say. It obviously meant that Sam and Gabriel were engaging in the same type of relationship that Dean and Castiel shared. An intimate one, in which physical pleasure was a natural occurrence. Proof was evident by Gabriel's attire, which consisted of only Sam's large shirt. Castiel was unsure how to feel about this news. To be honest, he was more concerned about Dean's reaction at the moment. The angel's blue eyes instinctively glanced toward room 69b. Should Castiel go in and attempt to offer some form of support? Or should he leave the Winchesters to their private discussion?

The small canine on the floor gave a few quiet barks.

Castiel glanced down at the small brown and white animal. It was pawing at Gabriel's leg as if it craved his attention. A small rush of blood heated Castiel's cheeks as he caught sight of Dean's pink undergarments still latched onto the dog's head. That fabric was meant to be seen only by Dean and Castiel and no one else. And the angel knew that Dean would not wish for it to remain out in the open.

“Dammit, Dickie,” Gabriel sighed in annoyance, reaching down to pick up the small animal, “I've told you a million times. Leave the panty raiding to the professionals, you perverted little hump-machine.”

While Gabriel spoke to his animal, Castiel reached out and untangled the soft pink fabric from around the canine's head. Once the underwear was free, Castiel took the time to inspect the satin. It was badly damaged; torn down the front, ripped along the hem, and stained with the dog's saliva. A long sigh exited the angel's lips at the devastating sight. Despite Cas's best efforts, it seemed that Dean was having a terrible morning.

“So, Deanie-weenie is into the kinky stuff, huh?”

Castiel realized that Gabriel was referring to the fabric in his hand. The two angels met eyes again and Cas could see a glowing enthusiasm in Gabriel's stare. It was the same he wore long ago, when their father first began the earth's creation. It was a look of genuine interest and excitement.

“I never would have pegged him as the panty-wearing type,” the archangel shrugged, “But, then again, I never pegged _you_ as the rebellious type. Did it hurt, Cas? When you fell from heaven and came crashing down into the arms of the not-so-righteous man?”

Something about the way Gabriel referred to Castiel falling into Dean's arms made a small tingle reverberate up the angel's spine. Cas had never looked at it that way before, but perhaps Gabriel was right. Perhaps Castiel had simply tumbled from heaven like a feather and floated down into Dean's path for a reason. The thought made the angel smile.

“No,” Castiel replied, his fingers tracing circles against the back of the fabric in his hand, “It didn't hurt at all... Gabriel, why are you sharing an intimate relationship with Sam Winchester?”

Not only was the notion a bit odd, and obviously distressing to Dean, but Castiel also knew that Gabriel had a tendency to do spiteful things to people. The archangel had a strange relationship with humanity, exacting justice on them the way he saw fit, perhaps to be some form of 'guiding light.' But his methods weren't always courteous. Was Sam aware of Gabriel's true nature? Was he aware that Gabriel possessed the same terrifying angelic power... as Lucifer?

“Well, since you asked soooo nicely,” Gabriel began, rolling his golden eyes, “I think the moose and I have a few things in common. He likes dogs, I like dogs. He hates being sad, I hate being sad. He likes salad, I like... well, I like sugar, but that's beside the point.”

“You have genuine affection for him?” Castiel asked, finding it difficult to believe.

A look crossed Gabriel's face at Castiel's question. A fire seemed to spark in his eye, defensive and meaningful. The dog in his arm seemed to sense the change as well because it, too, looked up at Gabriel's face. There was sincere honesty in the archangel's expression, making him look almost vulnerable.

“Yes,” Gabriel breathed, his golden eyes glowing with trust, “I'm in love with that kid, Castiel.”

A small smile threatened to emerge on Castiel's lips. Never, in their millions of years of existence, did Castiel ever hear such honesty in Gabriel's voice. He was never this passionate about anything or this caring. Perhaps Sam Winchester had mended something within Gabriel and turned him into the being he always had the potential to be, but never the drive. Perhaps Sam had been the missing component in Gabriel's completion...

As Castiel opened his mouth to state his delight concerning Gabriel and Sam's relationship, the door to room 69b was opening again. Both angels turned toward it, watching to see which Winchester would walk out first. Castiel secretly hoped to see both of them exit in a joyful mood, but he knew the notion was reaching. It was only Sam who backed out of the room, still only wearing a pair of strange underwear. The younger sibling left the door cracked open as he faced the angels and began to walk toward them. Where was Dean? Would he be wearing the same look of weariness that Sam's expression held?

Gabriel gave a sexy whistle beside Castiel as Sam made his way toward them.

“You are working those boxers, sweetheart,” the archangel commented, his eyebrows bouncing.

Sam smiled a little at Gabriel's words but turned toward Castiel.

“Dean wants to see you,” he informed.

Without hesitation, Castiel flew to the open hotel door. The satin underwear was still tight in the angel's grasp when he made his way back into the room that he and Dean had shared – and partly destroyed – the night before. Cas's eyes were searching as soon as the door swung open. He was worried that Dean may have gone into a fit of rage and broken more objects around the room, and Castiel felt he needed to find the man as soon as possible. Thankfully, he didn't have to search for long.

Dean was leaning up against the wall behind the door, hunched over as if a very large burden was resting on his shoulders. His face was severely pale and his lovely green eyes seemed sunken back. The sight of Dean's distraught form made Castiel wonder what had taken place between him and his brother. When the angel stepped toward him, Dean's weak eyes found there way to Cas's face – and the man instantly fell apart. His large arms flew around Castiel's bare torso and his face buried into the side of the angel's neck. Castiel cradled Dean closer at once, even though he wasn't sure of the cause of the man's distress.

“Tell me I didn't do it, Cas,” Dean nearly begged in a broken slur, his hot breath clouding against the angel's neck, “Tell me I didn't become my old man.”

Castiel tilted his head back in order to peer down at Dean's face. The mere mention of John Winchester caused a twinge of anger to draw Cas's stomach muscles into a tight knot. Did Sam say something to remind Dean of their father? The scene from the alley – the one in which Dean had pushed Castiel away based on the assumption that his father would not approve of their relationship – was suddenly playing in the angel's mind. It baffled and angered Castiel to no end, to see the pain on Dean's face placed there by John Winchester. What on earth made Dean believe that he was anything like him?

Castiel reached up to cup the man's heated cheeks and level their eyes. Dean allowed the interaction, raising his head enough to meet Cas's sight. The angel gazed into the suffering emerald orbs with enough power to shift the course of an ocean current as he spoke with deliberate sternness.

“Dean,” he began, caressing the man's cheekbone with the edge of his thumb, “You are _nothing_ like your father.”

Dean appeared to accept these words as he swallowed with a sudden thud. His green eyes searched Castiel's for a moment before he craned his neck to press their lips together. The angel kissed the man with as much affection as he could muster, holding the back of his delicate head while their lips parted softly. After a moment or so, Dean pulled away to release a warm sigh.

“Thank you,” he breathed, sounding a bit more calm, as his fingers curled against the bare skin of Castiel's back.

The angel gave a firm nod. Any time Dean needed a reminder that he was his own important being, Castiel would always be there to recite the words. The man eyed the angel's lips as a more annoyed look crossed his face.

“Sam's getting it on with the trickster, everyone knows I own a pair of panties, and I didn't even get to finish coming this morning,” he grumbled, bitterness weighing on his tone, “Today's just gonna suck, isn't it?”

Castiel gave his own heavy sigh as he gently scratched the back of Dean's head. He couldn't deny that Dean was having a terrible day so far... but perhaps Cas could attempt to make it better.

“I could help you get dressed, Dean,” he offered, purposefully adding a bit of lust to his tone, “and feed you more pie.”

Delight flooded the angel at the sight of Dean's smirk returning at full power.

“Have I told you lately how much I love you?” he asked, tugging Castiel closer, “because I freakin' love you, Cas.”

Castiel's smile over-took his entire face. Those words seemed to never become stale.

“I love you, too, Dean,” he simply replied.


	2. Chapter 2

“I don't know if I can do this, Cas,” Dean admitted in a grumble as he led the way onto the elevator.

He and Cas both boarded the metal compartment and faced forward to watch the doors slide shut. Anger and pain were still lingering inside Dean like a shot of bad liquor. And he was being honest with Cas. He really didn't know if he had the restraint to talk civilly with the trickster. Hell, was it even possible for Gabriel to have an actual serious conversation? Everything was just a joke to that bastard. He was all 'slow-dancing aliens' this, and 'big bag of dicks' that. The archangel clearly wasn't aware of the fine line he was toeing; the razor's edge of Dean's patience he was currently tap-dancing on. If anyone ever wanted to get themselves killed by Dean Winchester, all they had to do is screw with his little brother Sam. And that blonde asshole didn't know how close he was to biting the dust.

“I have faith in you, Dean,” Cas replied softly as the elevator began to gently descend, “I know you will figure out how to handle this situation.”

Dean took an easing breath before turning to look fully at Cas's face. The angel's baby-blues were on him already, boring into him with passion. Ah, shit. There was nothing else on earth that could put Dean at ease quite like looking into Cas's eyes. He didn't have much personal experience with it, but Dean assumed that this was probably what it felt like to _come home_. Staring at Cas made him feel so damn safe and comfortable, better than four walls and a roof ever could. Apart from Sammy, Cas was the closest thing Dean had to family. Shit. At this point, Sam and Cas were pretty damn level on Dean's list of priorities.

“Gabriel is easier to read than you might think,” Cas spoke again, probably noticing that Dean was lost in thought, “His eyes are very telling.”

Dean blinked, hearing the elevator doors 'ding' open in front of him. He forgot, again, that Gabriel and Cas were still brothers. For all Dean knew, the two angels had probably been just as close as him and Sam; ready and willing to die for one another, no matter what. And, as bad as the situation already was, Dean knew that Cas and Gabriel's angelic relationship effected things. Dean couldn't very well harm Gabriel without hurting Cas in the process. Ugh, this was some straight-up 'Romeo and Juliet' shit, Capulet-angels and Montague-Winchesters all bickering and sneaking around behind each others' backs to get laid. Where was a freakin' longsword when Dean needed one?

“I'll keep that in mind,” Dean uttered as he stepped off the elevator and into the lobby.

The hotel they were staying in was ridiculously over-the-top. Fancy water fountains, bellboys, rich old ladies in fur coats, valet parking... Again, Dean wondered how Sam could afford a two-room suite in a place like this – and then realized that Gabriel probably had something to do with it. The man rolled his eyes as he shifted through the small crowd of people in the reception area. _Of course_ the trickster would have picked a place like this to stay. What other room would he have chosen besides room 69? The bastard...

Cas was being exceptionally quiet when they rounded a group of people to face the dining area. Dean was subconsciously searching amongst the tallest people in the room, scanning for long hair and a plaid shirt. And, soon enough, he spotted Sammy standing on the right side of the room... along with that smug little archangel. The two of them were facing each other – and Dean could have swore he saw Sam touching Gabriel's face somehow – but quickly turned to see Dean and Cas arriving. Sam was half-smiling nervously and shifting uncomfortably in his clothes. Gabriel, on the other hand, looked as bright as sunshine, grinning like an idiot. Ugh. It was sickening...

Dean couldn't help himself from glancing up and down the trickster as he and Cas slowed to a stop in front of them. So, _this_ was the guy Dean's little brother was currently banging. This was the shrimp who had Sammy wrapped around his crooked little finger. Dean didn't know what the hell Sam saw in him. The dude wasn't even tall enough to ride the roller coasters at Sea World for God's sake! Sammy was way better off sticking to chicks.

“What's up, Pinky?” Gabriel suddenly blurted, staring directly at Dean, “Did you and baby-bird squeeze in a quickie before moseying on down here? The two of you smell like sin and pie.”

Dean could feel the heat filling up his cheeks instantly. Did the trickster really just call him _Pinky_? In reference to his panties? And how the hell did he know if Dean and Cas had squeezed in a quickie or not?! The blue-eyed angel next to him merely tilted his head in confusion, but Dean was feeling his rage swelling up again. Sam glanced down at Gabriel, who returned his stare with a raised eyebrow.

“What?” the trickster asked him, sounding all innocent.

Sam rolled his eyes at Gabriel's reply but Dean was still furious. Ugh! This was exactly the type of shit Dean didn't want to put up with. This whole 'show-off' thing the trickster was so proud of was going to be the reason Dean would finally snap. But, thankfully, all that shit didn't matter. Because, over the years of dealing with vile people, Dean had figured out how to deal with show-offs. All you had to do was get rid of the person they were showing-off for. Remove their audience and they've got nothing left to do but act normal.

“Sam,” Dean sighed, looking toward his little brother, “I want to talk to him. Alone.”

Yes, alone would mean Dean would have to send Cas away, too. And, God, he really didn't want to. Cas was the constant reminder of happiness and shelter that Dean needed to stay calm. But, if this was going to work, he had to do it. For a moment, Sam seemed hesitant, glancing from Gabriel to Dean with worry. Dean made sure Sam could see the seriousness in his face. Hell no, Dean wasn't gonna back down from this. Sam asked him to give this a chance and the kid better let him do it in his own way.

“Fine,” Sam finally said, taking a step back, “I'll – I'll get some breakfast or something.”

As the younger brother edged away from the group, the trickster's hand shot up to grab his arm. Dean's eyes flickered to the interaction, watching Sam halt to a stop and look down at Gabriel. They were all looking at Gabriel then, wondering what the hell was gonna come out of that stupid mouth of his. There was a look on the archangel's face that Dean recognized. It was a mixture of pride, ego, and pompous sophistication.

“Aren't you gonna give me a kiss, sweetheart?” the trickster purred, easing up towards Sam's face.

Dean's jaw hit the floor. Oh, _hell_ no! Gabriel better _not_ have just asked Sam for a freakin' kiss! The older Winchester immediately searched his little brother's face, watching it turn as red as Darth Vader's lightsaber. Sam was visibly torn between Gabriel's goo-goo eyes and Dean's death glare, glancing back and forth with indecision. Dean didn't want to have to witness that shit! It was bad enough he had to picture it in his head!

Sam finally heaved a great sigh before he swooped down and – to Dean's utter horror – quickly smacked his lips against Gabriel's. The sight of it made Dean's insides curdle like spoiled milk. Ugh! The two of them kissing just wasn't right! But, thankfully, it was just a small peck, quick enough that it was over in a blink. And then, Sam was on his way, tromping off toward the mass of vacant tables while steam rolled off his flustered face.

Gabriel, however, was smugger than ever. His golden eyes watched Sam walk away, casually glancing at the kid's ass, before they turned on Dean. The trickster's face was unmistakably arrogant, boring into the man as if he was saying ' _your move, asshole_.' Dean's eyes narrowed at the conceited son of a bitch. Oh, so this was a power play, huh? Gabriel was trying to prove that he had Sam hanging on his every word by rubbing their relationship in Dean's face, thinking Dean couldn't do anything about it. Was that right? Well, the trickster had overlooked one small detail of his little scheme...

Two could play at this game.

“Cas,” Dean said softly, pulling his glare away from Gabriel to give Cas the most intense bedroom-eyes he could muster, “Would you mind sitting with Sam, for a minute?”

The angel blinked strangely when Dean reached up to rake his fingers gently through Cas's dark hair. He seemed to be a little lost by Dean's purring words and affectionate gestures, but nodded anyway. Before Cas had time to speak, though, Dean was already plunging their mouths together, kissing him with as much sentiment and emotion as he could. Their tongues were circling and Dean's hand was firmly clutching the back of the angel's soft head. It was the kind of kissing they did in private, raw and unfiltered. Cas was kissing back just as hard as Dean, reaching up to clutch at the man's shirt. For a brief moment, they were lost in it, completely unaware of Gabriel standing next to them and all the staring people moving around the room. Holy shit, Dean loved kissing Cas like this. Making Gabriel watch it was just the cherry on top.

The man pulled away to breathe, inching back enough to see Cas's blue eyes properly. The angel looked almost stoned, blinking lazily and breathing hushed sighs. Dean couldn't help but grin at the state of bliss he put Cas in and admire his own work. It felt nice to be able to make Cas high.

“I... um...” Cas uttered, hesitantly letting go of Dean's shirt to stumble backward, “I'll – I'll just be, uh, over there, Dean.”

“Okay, Mighty Mouse,” Dean winked.

Once Cas staggered away with contentment, Dean turned his grin to Gabriel. The archangel didn't look as perky as he did before. His smile had slipped a bit and his shoulders were lowered. And when he and Dean met eyes, the trickster's golden stare seemed to be a little more serious. Ha! That was what the bastard got for thinking he could out-fluster Dean Winchester.

“Oooh,” Gabriel grimaced, shaking his head a little, “One-nothing Pinky.”

Dean's smirk faltered a bit. Oh, God, was he ever gonna live down those damn panties?

“Alright, you pious little bastard,” the man said gruffly, ready to get this shit over with, “What the hell are you doing to my brother?”

Even though Sam said that he wasn't being manipulated by Gabriel and that he really liked the trickster or whatever, Dean still had a hard time believing it. This asshole had put Sam through a lot of shit since the day they met him, and Dean didn't see it ending anytime soon. The archangel shrugged as he stepped toward a booth near the window. His cheeky grin returned when he swept some of his blonde hair back and eased down into the seat.

“Uh, what does it look like I'm doing, sport?” he replied condescendingly, as he casually tossed his arm over the back of the seat, “I'm _getting it in_ with your brother. You know, packing fudge? Churning butter? Stuffing the turkey? Doing the horizontal mambo?”

“Ugh! I get it!” Dean grumbled in annoyance, trying to shoo away mental pictures that were attempting to crawl into his head, “I know that part already, dammit! I just want to know _why_.”

“Why?” Gabriel repeated, his eyebrows curving like he didn't understand the word.

“Yeah. Why. See, once upon a time, Sam couldn't stand your ass,” Dean explained, carefully easing to sit at the same table, “and he was right to hate you. All you ever did was make that kid's life hell.”

“Oh, you're just still upset 'cause I killed you with a taco,” Gabriel smirked, waving a dismissing hand in Dean's direction, “Besides, I was only trying to show him that he relied on you too much. And apparently, the message didn't sink in. Because here I am, forcing myself to have a friendly conversation with you, when I'd rather be tapping his big moose ass.”

Dean's hands tightened into fists on top of the table. He knew the trickster was just saying that shit on purpose, trying to get a rise out of him. _Don't freak out_ , Dean recited in his head, _if you freak out, he wins_. The man cleared his throat, freeing it from the blockage of discomfort, before continuing.

“Why?” Dean spat again, waiting to hear a good explanation.

Gabriel took a breath as he glanced out the window. Sunlight was in his face as he squinted into the distance. Dean could see a touch of thoughtfulness in the archangel's expression while he stared off.

“I guess it's for the same reason _you're_ boning _my_ baby bro,” Gabriel replied, his voice harboring a hint of irritation as he turned his golden eyes back to Dean, “I practically raised that bird, you know. You think daddy was around to teach him how to fly? Nope. I took him under _my_ wing and showed him how to ride the wind. The reason he's such a badass now is because he had me to teach him how to be one.”

A tingle raced up Dean's spine at Gabriel's words and he felt goosebumps raising on his skin. He could suddenly hear Sammy's words in his head again; _You might have more in common than you think_. Dean knew exactly what Gabriel was taking about when it came to raising a younger sibling...

“And now, he's abusing his own precious grace,” Gabriel added, shaking his head, “for _you_. The bonehead who started the apocalypse. If that's not a sign of sacrificial love, I don't know what is.”

Dean swallowed harshly and took the time to glance toward the other side of the room. Though passing people were partially blocking his sight, he could see Cas and Sam talking to each other at a table. The angel in a trench coat looked so good from a distance, sitting with perfect posture and his dark hair all a mess. Dean had forgotten just how much Cas had sacrificed for him and how much he _kept_ sacrificing. Cas didn't have to be here on Earth. He didn't have to ride around in a car, or stay in crappy motels, or help solve cases. But he did.

Because he loved Dean.

The man pulled his eyes away from the gorgeous angel across the room and brought them back to Gabriel in front of him. Even though he would never state it out loud, Dean knew Gabriel had a point. The archangel grinned suddenly, looking like the smug trickster Dean knew him to be.

“Love, Champ,” he repeated, “That's why I've been taking your brother to pound-town.”

Dean rolled his eyes. Just because Gabriel said a statement like that, it didn't make it true. Lucifer might have been the father of lies, but Gabriel was quite literally his brother; able to turn anything around and make it believable. But Dean wasn't an idiot. He was determined not to fall for any of the trickster's shit.

“Whatever you say,” the man grumbled, easing forward with seriousness, “But you should know, that if this even gets a faint whiff of 'suspicious' on it – if you so much as look at Sam the wrong way – I'll... I'll...”

Dean was going to finish his sentence with ' _I'll mount your head on the hood of my car and drive around like a hunter during buck season_.' But he couldn't bring himself to say it. Because he was thinking of Cas again, imagining what the angel's reaction would be, if he found out Dean had killed the only sibling that truly cared about him. Shit, Dean was really stuck in the middle of this with his hands tied. Dean understood, now, why Romeo was such a little bitch in that stupid play. It was because he loved Juliet so much that he couldn't bare to kill Tybalt at first, out of fear of hurting her.

In that moment, Gabriel was definitely Tybalt, practically daring Dean to make a move. He was leaning across the table, mimicking Dean's threatening posture. Gabriel's eyes were teasing and his smug little grin was enough to make the anger reignite in the man's stomach again.

“You'll what, Pinky?” he challenged, arching an eyebrow.

Dean felt the urge to punch Gabriel growing. Romeo _did_ get to kill that bastard in the play, after all. Juliet forgave her man and they ended up making sweet love on a balcony or some shit. And Dean wouldn't mind carving the grin right out of the trickster's face right then and there, making a jack-o-lantern out of his pompous ass. And then, maybe, Dean and Cas could find a balcony somewhere...

Before Dean had the chance to act on his ideas, Gabriel's eyes were flickering toward the left again. The fierceness and pride that had been written all over his face seemed to instantly melt away. Dean glanced to the side to see what the hell had made the smile inch back on Gabriel's lips and realized Sam and Cas were making their way over.

“Well, hey there, lil' peach,” Gabriel smirked up at Sammy, like he wasn't trying to start a fight with his brother, “I was just talkin' about your fine ass. Wanna sit on my lap and take a load off?”

Dean was glad to see Sam give Gabriel a dumb look. Cas shifted out from behind Sam to edge his way closer to the table. Dean blinked up at the angel's blue eyes, feeling a strange mixture of shame and relief. Cas, however, was looking at Sam's hands with curiosity, where the guy was holding onto a newspaper.

“Sorry for interrupting your little chat,” Sam began, ignoring Gabriel's flirty comment to look down at Dean, “but, I think I may have found something.”

Sammy tossed the newspaper on the table in front of Dean, laying the front page out in his view. Dean instantly saw the headline, ' _9_ _th_ _Body Found, Killer Strikes Again._ ' It was definitely the kind of thing that he and Sam kept an eye out for. Gabriel, Sam, and Cas were all watching Dean as he lifted the article to read it. The man skimmed over the words to get to the gory parts, scanning for anything suspicious. Nine older women, all drained dry of blood, cuts generally on the neck, bodies found in strange places... Yep. It sounded like a case to him.

“Blood sucker,” Dean stated, his eyes flashing back up at Sam's.

“Rogue vampire,” Sam nodded, “Doesn't sound like he has a nest.”

“Doesn't know how to clean up his mess, either,” Dean added, glancing at the picture on the newspaper, “Should be pretty easy to find, if we had more crime scene photos.”

“The police would have them,” Sam pointed out, “All we need to do is make a trip to the station.”

“Road trip!” Gabriel blurted.

Dean's eyes snapped toward the archangel across the table where he was grinning from ear to ear. His eyes were twinkling with excitement as he glanced from Dean to Sam. Did the trickster really think Dean would let him tag along on a case?

“Yeah, not for you, shorty,” Dean grumbled, tossing the paper back on the table, “Winchesters only.”

Sam visibly tensed by the table at Dean's statement. Some of his lengthy hair fell into his face when he tilted his head down at his older brother.

“Well, then I guess that rules Cas out too,” he hissed.

Dean shot his little brother a look of genuine surprise. Sam was squinting his eyes at Dean and his mouth was tilted to the side. The kid was basically doing an impression of a fed-up housewife, only lacking the hands on the hips. Dean couldn't believe Sam just said that. Cas was more of a Winchester than Gabriel could ever hope to be. But Dean could see that this was about more than just about someone being deemed worthy enough to ride along on a case. It was about Sam wanting Gabriel to have equal treatment whether he had earned it or not.

Dean took the time to glance at Cas and try to see his opinion on this matter. The angel was staring at Sam with total shock, as if the guy had just slapped him in the face. Dean couldn't blame him for feeling offended. It was wrong of Sam to use Cas to get what he wanted. But if Sam _really_ wanted it – so bad that he would take a cheap shot at Dean's feelings for it – then he might as well get it.

“Fine,” Dean growled, “but Cas rides shotgun.”

* * *

Castiel stared at the dashboard of the Impala as Dean climbed into the driver's seat. The angel had been patiently waiting for the man to join him while Dean changed his attire to fit the latest case. Cas glanced over at him as he got in, noticing the charcoal suit and striped tie accentuated his skin tone nicely. Dean's green eyes appeared to be a little faded as well, as if the early hours of the day had already exhausted him. Perhaps the man's conversation with Gabriel had been more stressful for him than Castiel originally thought.

“How are you, Dean?” the angel asked quietly, after Dean slammed his door shut.

A gruff sigh escaped the man's mouth as he turned to look at Castiel. His weary emerald eyes searched all over Cas's face, as if taking in the sight of him was calming.

“The sooner we get this shit over with, the better,” Dean mumbled in reply as he shoved the key into the ignition.

Castiel nodded a bit. He could understand why Dean considered this stressful. Dealing with Gabriel took time to master. Castiel knew that from personal experience. And the angel wished he could somehow ease Dean's distress and revive the smile on his precious face. But, as long as Gabriel played mind games with Dean, it would remain a difficult task.

“You may consider it a consolation that this situation baffles and discomforts me as well, Dean,” the angel said quietly, in the hope of giving Dean some peace.

To Castiel's great relief, a small smile graced Dean's perfect lips.

“Your vocabulary 'baffles' me, Einstein,” he murmured, before putting on a serious face to say, “But, thanks for the support.”

Castiel gave a single nod, glad that he could remind Dean that he wasn't alone. Behind them, the two back doors of the Impala opened and Sam and Gabriel climbed into the car. Sam, too, had changed his outfit in his brief absence, into a similar suit as his brother. Gabriel, on the other hand, was still dressed in everyday attire. And they were both smiling when they entered the Impala, as if they had been telling each other humorous stories. Castiel turned in his seat to glance between the two of them, still bewildered by their odd relationship.

“Alright, Dickie,” Gabriel called, holding his door open, “Get your furry ass in here before the pit-bull throws it in drive.”

Castiel noticed Dean instantly stiffen beside him and shoot a shocked glance over his shoulder. They were all watching as Gabriel's small animal dashed over to the Impala and jumped inside, straight into Gabriel's lap to sniff around. The mere act seemed to engulf Dean with rage.

“Oh, _hell_ no,” Dean objected, spinning in his seat to look directly at the archangel, “That thing is _not_ allowed in here! Stick it back outside!”

“What?” Gabriel said, smirking at Dean as he pet the small canine in his lap, “Are you still mad at him for stealing your panties, little girl? Get over it.”

Castiel joined Dean in glaring at Gabriel. How dare he address Dean in such a disrespectful way.

“Get. Your _dick_. Out. Of my car,” Dean pronounced slowly, with firm authority.

Gabriel's golden eyes narrowed at Dean's and the two of them shared an intense stare. Castiel swallowed harshly at the exchange, taking a brief moment to glance toward Sam. The younger Winchester appeared to be just as uncomfortable with the event, shifting in his seat as he cleared his throat. Even the small dog in the archangel's lap seemed to be frightened because it backed against Gabriel's stomach.

“Dean,” Sam began quietly.

“I'm not backing down on this one, Sam,” Dean interrupted with a growl, never breaking eye-contact with Gabriel, “You're lucky I let _him_ in here.”

Gabriel and Dean continued to hold their stare for a good measure of time before the archangel finally sighed. Gabriel scooped up the dog into his arms and gave it a gentle kiss on the head.

“Fine,” he said, his voice sounding much too light, “He'd rather be chasing tail, anyway. Go get 'em, boy.”

The dog barked once at Gabriel before dashing back out the door. Castiel was surprised to see such calmness in Gabriel's composure. The archangel didn't appear hostile in the least as he closed the door and gestured toward the front of the car.

“Well, Victoria's Secret, what are you waiting for? People are dying. Let's hit the road,” he urged.

Dean's narrow eyes remained on Gabriel's before he slowed faced forward. Castiel continued to stare at the archangel, slightly lost by the term 'Victoria's Secret.' At Gabriel's side, Sam seemed just as confused, if not a bit relieved. Castiel and the younger Winchester shared a small glance and appeared to be thinking the same thing – that perhaps Dean and Gabriel may actually be trying to set their differences aside.

The ride to the police station was fairly quiet and relatively fast. The building was only a few miles from the hotel and hardly a word was spoken in the short distance. Castiel wondered why Dean didn't simply ask Castiel to fly him to the close location, but assumed the man had his reasons. Perhaps Dean preferred driving because it included Gabriel as Sam so wished. Or perhaps he was just accustomed to the many years of repetition when it came to his family business. Either way, the Impala rolled to a stop in the police station parking lot in less than fifteen minutes from their departure from the hotel.

“Geez,” Gabriel groaned with sarcasm in the backseat, as he stretched, “That was the longest ride ever! Ugh, I don't see how you do it, Cassie. Welp! Looks like we're here. You guys sit tight. I'll be right back.”

Before Castiel could say or do anything to stop the archangel, Gabriel had already flown away.

Sam gasped in the backseat, instantly glancing all around as he called Gabriel's name. Dean, too, seemed to be shocked and irritated by Gabriel's sudden disappearance. Castiel watched the man rip the key out of the ignition and quickly thrust open his door.

“Dammit, Sam,” Dean grumbled, climbing out of the vehicle in a rush, “This is the kind of shit I'm talking about!”

Wanting to ease Dean's distress, Castiel flew inside the police station in the hope of catching Gabriel before he ruined the Winchester's case. In the foyer, Castiel spotted the archangel strolling to an open window, where a desk-worker was going about her business. Cas assumed that Gabriel was going to do something disappointing, perhaps tell her that the Winchesters were on their way with fake ID badges or reach through the window and try to grab something – but what Castiel found instead, was that Gabriel was actually _helping_.

The archangel leaned casually against the plastic window and began to converse with the female in a friendly manner, casually addressing the fact that he was trying to obtain a set of crime scene photos. Castiel lingered in the foyer and watched from a distance to make sure he didn't need to interrupt Gabriel's scheme. It genuinely surprised Cas that his mischievous brother would be this considerate. Again, the angel couldn't help but think that Sam Winchester had something to do with the change in Gabriel's demeanor.

The Winchesters barged in through the door behind Castiel and dashed into the building. Both of them were about to barrel toward Gabriel, but Castiel could see that the archangel had nearly accomplished the task of retrieving the information they needed. Cas reached out and grabbed Dean and Sam by the arms, holding them back from disrupting Gabriel. Both Winchesters gave Castiel strange looks but paused to take the time to watch Gabriel. The kind woman at the desk was smiling courteously at the archangel as she handed him a folder. He thanked her, said a witty comment that made her laugh, and turned to walk toward them, carting the folder in hand.

Castiel could hear Dean's harsh breath elevating next to him as the archangel came closer. The man was no doubt feeling acute irritation and raw discomfort at Gabriel's stunt. Sam, on the other hand, appeared to be in awe.

“Here you go, gentlemen,” Gabriel chimed with a smirk, holding out the folder, “Piece of cake.”

“You should have waited for us, asshole,” Dean spoke through gritted teeth, “This is _our_ party, not yours.”

“A simple 'thank you' would suffice,” the archangel replied, squinting his eyes.

“Thank you,” Sam blurted instantly, taking the folder from Gabriel.

Before anymore could be said on the matter, the sound of a car horn interrupted their conversation. It echoed from outside and sounded eerily familiar. Castiel turned toward Dean, knowing that the man had an extensive knowledge on motor vehicles and may have been able to decipher the noise. The look on Dean's face was nearly indescribable. His eyes carefully widened and his jaw released its tight clamp to fall open. A pale sheen glistened on his forehead as he sucked in a gasp of air.

“ _My car_ ,” he breathed.

Though Dean was most definitely leading the way, all four of them were suddenly dashing back into the parking lot. A few feet away, the Impala was still sitting in the space Dean had parked in – only, it wasn't the same way he had left it.

Crammed tightly inside the vehicle was a numerous amount of dogs.

Canines of all sizes, breeds, and colors were stuffed into the car, moving around and wagging their tails as they barked and panted toward one another. Some were pressed up against the windows, having little to no room move around in. A particularly large dog was sitting in the driver's seat with its paw on the steering wheel, seeming unaware that he was the cause of the loud horn blowing.

Castiel was unsure if he had ever witnessed Dean in such a state of fury. The man's face was blazing red as he ran to his precious car and ripped open the driver's side door. Cas faintly heard Gabriel snickering at Sam's side.

“Get out!” Dean demanded in an angered shout, “Out!”

The dogs piled out of the Impala, flowing out like liquid from a cup. Castiel was utterly confused watching the animals scurry out the driver's side door. How did all of those canines get into the car within the short amount of time that it was left unattended? The cluster of dogs poured all over the parking lot – before turning their attention to Dean. The man was rendered completely vulnerable as they all suddenly dashed toward him, barking and wagging their tails. The canines swarmed around him, knocking him down in order to lick his face and make obscene motions against him. Castiel was nearly frozen in shock and anger, unable to fully believe what he was seeing.

“Ha, ha!” Gabriel laughed, doubling over to smack his knee, “Now, I guess we know who let the dogs out!”

Castiel cast a ruthless glower at the archangel, finally understanding where all of these animals had come from. Gabriel had put them there for the singular purpose of pestering Dean.

“Cas!” Dean called out in desperation from underneath the dogs as he stretched out his hand, “Help!”

The angel wasted no time flying over to take a firm grip of Dean's hand. With a stern but gentle yank, Castiel rescued Dean from the pile of animals, pulling the man into his arms to protect him. The animals scurried around them, jumping up and barking enthusiastically. Gabriel's laughter was fueling Castiel's anger, enraging him to the point of wrath. With as much celestial grace as he could muster, Castiel held out a powerful hand toward the dogs and sent them all away, blasting them to all corners of the world. Their absence left Dean to cling to Castiel in the silence, appearing both furious and shaken.

Gabriel's laughter ceased but his grin remained. His golden eyes were playful and smug as he looked between Dean and Castiel.

“You said Dickie wasn't allowed in the car,” the archangel mentioned, raising a finger, “but you didn't say anything about his friends.”

Castiel's scowl intensified. The angel had given Gabriel the benefit of the doubt; trusted him to be considerate around Dean and had faith that he would be respectful. But it was clear that Gabriel was still the teasing older sibling – still the trickster – that Castiel had always known him to be. The angel looked down at the human in his arms, wishing he could somehow apologize for the archangel's behavior.

“I'm so sorry, Dean,” Cas uttered, painfully aware that it didn't change anything.

The angel was surprised to see the anger carefully melting away from Dean's face. As he stared at Castiel, Dean's glare was slowly easing and his eyes were becoming clear. It appeared as though some large lovely thought had crossed the man's mind as he stood up straight in Cas's arms. Dean looked as if he just realized something that gave him relief.

“It's alright, Cas,” he breathed as sinful smirk threatened to stretch across his moist lips, “I know what to do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep. See? Told ya. Dean and Gabriel are going to be total pricks to each other for most of this fic. I know that the 'dog thing' was pretty funny/rude - but it's nothing compared to what Dean has up his sleeve for the next chapter. hehehe... ;D Gotta love a prank war, am I right? ;) Also, I doubt that Dean has ever read Romeo and Juliet, but I would bet money that he has seen the Leo DeCaprio movie multiple times. 'Cause he loves a good chick flick starring hot actors. ;) Thank you all so much for reading and commenting! I love you all soooo much! *hugs* The next smutty chapter will be out soon! <3


	3. Chapter 3

“Dean, I would just like to state again, the depth of my apologies,” Cas repeated for the hundredth time while he shifted uncomfortably next to the trunk, “Had I known Gabriel would do such a disrespectful thing to you, I would have ended -”

“Stow it, Cas,” Dean replied gruffly, “It wasn't your fault.”

After getting back to the hotel – and cleaning all the freakin' dog slobber from the interior of the entire damn Impala – Dean was already piecing together the details to his master plan. Oh, it was a brilliant plan to get back at Gabriel for the stupid dog fiasco. That asshole didn't know who he was dealing with when it came to shit like this. Messing with Dean's _car_? And his _family_? The trickster might as well have hung a neon sign above his head that read ' _Please kill me, Mr. Winchester_.' But Dean wasn't going to kill the dude. No, no. He was going to do much better than that...

Dean was digging around in the trunk of the car now, searching for a pair of walkie-talkies that he knew he had thrown back there at some point. But there were so many guns, stakes, random-ass bottles of holy water and shit back there, he had a hard time finding them. Dean was already pissed enough without having to comb through their extensive collection of hunting supplies. Geez, he and Sam really needed to clean out this damn trunk. Where the hell were the walkie-talkies?

“May I assist you, Dean?” Cas asked softly, leaning over to peer in the trunk, “What are you looking for? Perhaps I can help.”

About the time Cas was asking, however, Dean's hand finally brushed against one of the plastic shapes. A smirk burst across the man's lips as he pulled both walkie-talkies out from under a couple of shotguns. They looked pretty rough, still scratched up and cracked from their time on the road. Hell, he and Sam hadn't bought a new pair for years. But these were going to do the job just fine.

Dean turned his grin from the plastic devices in his hands up to Cas's soft face. The angel's heavenly blues were full of confusion, probably wondering why the hell Dean needed the walkie-talkies. It was this puzzled look that made Dean realize that Cas probably wouldn't approve of his idea. Dean's plan was spiteful and dirty; two things that Cas's noble spirit didn't mix with. Even though he screwed up in the past, Cas's intentions were always pure and good. And this plan was definitely neither. It would probably be for the best if Cas stayed out of the loop on this one.

“Cas,” Dean began, reaching out to clutch the angel's hand, “Would you do something for me?”

“Anything,” Cas answered without hesitation, gripping Dean's hand in return.

Dean smiled a bit at Cas's die-hard loyalty. Was there anything his angel wouldn't do for him?

“I need you to go to... Germany,” Dean quickly said, thinking it up on the spot, “I've been, uh, wanting a try a glass of draft ale from there. Think you can hit up one of the pubs and get me one?”

Cas' ocean eyes dropped briefly to the walkie-talkies in Dean's hand, but he met the man's stare again. An understandably bewildered expression crossed the angel's face. It wasn't every day Dean asked for something as bizarre as foreign beer. And Dean really hated sending the angel away – good God, he really hated watching Cas disappear, it hurt like hell every time – but the man only needed a few minutes alone to get everything patched up. Then, the payback could begin...

“You – you mean, an alcoholic beverage?” Cas said quietly, making sure.

“German ale,” Dean nodded, easing closer to the angel in the parking lot, “Any brand, I don't care which. Just make sure they fill the glass all the way up. I wanna share it with you when you get back.”

Dean was _purring_ his words now, making sure Cas could hear the sex dripping off his voice. Hell yes, Dean wanted to have sex. After the terrible, shitty day he had, he _needed_ to pound one out. And Cas must have been feeling it too, because his baby-blues were slowly widening. Dean made it even clearer, by slowly milking Cas's middle finger with his own, mimicking the feeling of jerking off. Dean knew the beer run seemed a little weird, but trying a beer from a European country to see what all the fuss was about was actually something he always wanted to do. And sharing it with Cas before knocking boots with him would be the icing on the cake.

“Of course, Dean,” Cas breathed, as the blue orbs of his eyes probed Dean's lips, “I'll retrieve it for you -”

“For _us_ ,” Dean corrected, easing even closer to the angel's face.

“For us,” Cas repeated in a whisper.

With the smell of Cas's scent potent in Dean's nose, the man closed the distance between their mouths, forcing their lips to touch and tongues to slather. Dean savored the kiss, knowing he was going to have to watch the angel disappear soon. The taste of Cas's mouth was already sending jolts toward Dean's crotch. It still amazed Dean, how just a single kiss from Cas could get a boner started in his pants every damn time. Did Cas have magic 'erection' powers that he didn't know about or something? Shit, Dean could practically feel the veins in his dick filling up. The man forced himself to pull back before he turned any harder.

“M – meet me back in our room,” Dean forced himself to say, giving Cas's finger one last tug, “and be careful out there.”

Be careful out there? Dean blinked at his own words, sort of stunned that he even said them. Cas was a freakin' angel. The dude didn't need to be reminded to be careful. He was basically indestructible. Why did Dean automatically add that to the end? A familiar ache of worry was settled in the bottom of Dean's stomach like a heavy rock, similar to the one he got when Sam or Bobby went away. Actually, it felt a little _worse_...

“I will return momentarily, Dean,” Cas said quietly.

Dean was staring deeply into the ocean's of Cas's eyes when the angel disappeared from the parking lot. The rock in the man's stomach seemed to grow heavier as he glanced around the space. Ugh. He hated being away from Cas. It was like the angel always took a chunk of Dean's soul with him when he left. Soon enough, Dean's eyes fell back to the walkie-talkies in his hand and he remembered his master plan. Cas worked pretty fast when it came to a mission, so Dean needed to get his ass moving.

After closing the false bottom in the Impala and slamming the trunk shut, Dean gathered the walkie-talkies and started for the entrance of the hotel. He knew Sam and that archangel-prick were around somewhere, having dodged out of the car as soon as they got back. Dean's eyes were scanning the scene as he casually made his way into the reception area. The mild crowd of people made him realize how much he actually missed the mundane nature of crappy motels. Cheap prices, not a lot of people, calming silence; that was the kind of atmosphere he liked. But the man dismissed the thought when he caught sight of his little brother near the front desk.

Dean instantly shoved the walkie-talkies into his jacket pockets as he sneaked his way passed the the cluster of people. Sam and the blonde midget were speaking – well, more like _arguing_ , to Dean's secret delight – and thankfully didn't notice him. The older Winchester made it all the way to the elevator without a hitch. So far, so good. The snobby little archangel had no idea what was coming to him...

In the elevator, Dean turned on both walkie-talkies and put them on matching channels. When on a case, Dean usually carried the one with the cracked screen and gave Sammy the one with the chipped antenna because it worked better. But, tonight, he had a specific use for the good walkie-talkie. The elevator doors slid open after the brief ride, exposing the familiar luxurious hallway. Still keeping a look out for any prying eyes, Dean strode his way over to room 69a – Sam and Gabriel's room.

For once, luck was on Dean's side, because the key card he had for his own room worked on this one, too. A small smirk flickered on the man's lips when the door unlocked and swung open without a struggle. Bingo. Whoever said you couldn't take karma into your own hands was sorely mistaken... The state of Sam and Gabriel's room was pretty unsettling. Breakfast food was tossed all over the bed and floor, clothes were flung everywhere and – was that a stuffed moose with an anti-possession symbol sewn onto it's chest? What the hell? Dean rolled his eyes at the sight. He would never understand Gabriel and his stupid freak-fetishes.

Dean tried his best to ignore the state of the room and bring his attention back to the task at hand. He quickly made his way over to one of the bedside tables – on which a pair of coffee mugs were sitting next to each other, making Dean uncomfortable – and pulled the drawer open. He carefully placed the good walkie-talkie inside, making sure to point the speaker upward for the best sound. After testing to check if they still picked up each others' frequencies, Dean closed the drawer back and took the other walkie-talkie with him.

He swiftly exited Sam and Gabriel's room, glad that no one was in the hallway to see him. Once the door closed firmly at his back, Dean strolled over to room 69b and used the same key card to get in. The man took a deep breath when he entered the room, filling his nose with the scent. Ah, there was that heavenly smell; the smell of Cas and sex and leftover pie... Their room was still partially destroyed – which made Dean kind of wonder why the hotel staff hadn't come in and tried to make a fuss about the broken window at least – and slightly cold. But, again, Dean dismissed the state of the room to focus on his plan.

He walked over to the bed, where the blankets and pillows were swirled into a gigantic sandy mess. Dean straightened it up at bit, putting the pillows back in order and tossing the blankets flat. After the bed looked somewhat decent, Dean wandered over to his duffel bag and dug around for a rubber band. Just like the trunk of the car, Dean's bag needed a serious spring-cleaning. He didn't even need half the shit in there; bottle caps and single socks. But, eventually, he found the rubber band he was looking for and twisted it around the other walkie-talkie – which kept the button on the side pressed down.

Dean was smirking again when he stepped back over to Cas's side of the bed and lifted the pillow. He positioned the live walkie-talkie underneath it, shifting it to face sideways so it wouldn't be muffled by the fabric, before lowering the pillow back over it. Dean smiled at his work and began cleaning up some of the glass off the floor. It was all ready, now. His plan was running smoother than honey out of a beehive.

With the walkie-talkies in place, every single noise made in room 69b could be heard clearly in room 69a...

* * *

Castiel stood impatiently at the bar, watching the burly German bartender filling the glass under the spout. The auburn liquid was flowing slowly; far too slowly for the angel's liking. There was no other soul in the bar, save Castiel and the bartender. Why was the large man pouring the alcohol with such caution? Was he deliberately attempting to lengthen Castiel's waiting time? Was the man somehow aware that Cas was in a hurry and exploiting the angel's patience on purpose?

After several minutes of slow preparation and even slower delivery, Castiel finally received the tall cool glass of foamy liquid. The bartender gently placed the glass on the bar before asking for payment. Of course, Castiel didn't have any means of currency to pay for the drink. But, thankfully, his celestial grace came in handy in such circumstances. The angel reached out and firmly gripped the cold beverage, and gave a slight nod to the man for his service before flying back to the hotel in America. Castiel knew it was a terribly rude gesture to steal... but he desperately craved to get back to Dean.

The angel landed back in the hotel room he and Dean had shared the night before. Room 69b smelled deeply of bodily pheromones and the faint whiff of sweet pastry. It was cool here as well, much cooler than the bar in Germany. Perhaps the temperature had something to do with the broken window. Castiel turned around carefully, keeping the glass of golden liquid in his hand steady, to face the bed and far wall.

Dean was already in the room, picking up large pieces of glass from the carpeted floor. He was moving quickly as if he was preparing the scene for the angel's return. Castiel watched him work for a moment, secretly admiring the man's flexing broad shoulders and the tempting curvature of his posterior, before making his presence known.

“Hello, Dean,” Castiel hummed quietly.

Dean's emerald eyes were quick to snap up toward Castiel. A small smile burst across his face and he tossed the glass in his hand toward a pile under the window. Relief, and perhaps a bit of arousal, were painted in his beautiful expression as he strode carefully up to Castiel.

“That didn't take very long,” Dean noted, his smirk causing Cas's insides to heat with joy.

“Here is the alcohol you requested,” the angel said, offering the glass toward him, “German draft ale.”

Dean's perfect lips were smiling when he carefully leaned toward the glass in Castiel's hand. Instead of taking the cup with his own, Dean simply clutched Cas's wrist and tilted the glass toward his mouth; drinking from the angel's hand. A gentle flame of arousal sparked in Castiel's lower region at the sight of Dean's delicate Adam's apple bobbing with his swallows, watching the man's mouth cradle the crystal rim of the glass, and his throat quiver with delight. For a moment, Castiel strangely wished to be the glass that Dean's mouth was suctioned to... After a few gulps, Dean gave a slight grimace and tilted the glass away.

“Ugh,” he coughed, smacking his lips, “Tastes like burnt ass. Sorry I made you go and get that, Cas, I thought it would be better.”

Castiel shrugged. The angel was honestly too wrapped up in watching Dean's body movement to be concerned with the ale. And Dean seemed to become aware of Castiel's arousal, because the man was wearing a naughty smirk when he carefully plucked the glass out of Cas's hand and placed it on the tray of pie. Once the angel's hands were free, Dean stepped up to kiss him; gently sliding his large hands down the front of Castiel's attire. The sensitive nipples of Cas's vessel hardened at the man's touch through the fabric, sending shivers to raise goosebumps on his skin. The indication of impending intercourse was steadily growing in the angel's awareness.

Dean hummed behind their joined lips and began to open Castiel's white shirt in a seductive manner, picking each individual button free and exposing the angel's bare chest. Cas could sense that Dean was being precise with his actions, easing the trench coat off the angel's shoulders and tugging the white shirt back. Blood was rushing toward the Castiel's genitals already, hardening the member between his legs. Heat was potent in their kiss as well, tongues wrestling and teeth clashing. The stressful day of dealing with other people had finally come to an end. Dean and Castiel were finally alone again, both primed and ready to fornicate.

The man gingerly guided the angel toward the bed, where the sandy blankets and pillows had been placed back in an orderly fashion. Castiel's arms were wrapped around Dean when they fell onto the mattress and one of his hands slipped down into the warm waistband of the man's jeans. Oh, the soft cheeks of Dean's heated backside were so tempting, round muscles flexing tightly under the angel's gentle touch. Penetrating him again and being reacquainted with the raw virtue of pleasure would be the perfect remedy for the day. The powerful sensation of making love to Dean had no equal.

Castiel was thinking of removing their clothes with his celestial grace when Dean's mouth suddenly left his own. The man's lips were kissing their way around Cas's head and pausing to hover over the angel's ear. Raspy air fled Castiel's mouth at the feeling of Dean's hot breath on the sensitive area. He clung to the man's warm body and listened acutely to the deep voice beginning whisper.

“Cas,” Dean purred, barely audible as his hands roamed over the angel's chest, “Do you remember when I taught you how to 'fly solo?'”

Castiel swallowed harshly, feeling his member twitch at Dean's rumbling voice. Of course. Cas would forever remember the man's teaching methods when it came to servicing his own manhood. How could he ever forget such a profound and important lesson? The angel nodded to answer Dean's question, allowing his fingers to spread open over the man's cheeks.

“I told you to make as much noise as you wanted in the shower, no matter how loud it was,” the man reminded, his whisper feeling like silk in Cas's ear, “and you should do that again tonight, baby. I want your sexy voice to bounce off these flimsy walls and make my dick reach for the damn stars. Don't hold back. I want to come to the sound of you moaning my name. Would you do that for me, Cas?”

“ _Yes_ ,” the angel croaked, suddenly clutching a handful of Dean's cheeks.

The idea was so exquisitely divine; Castiel causing Dean to ejaculate with merely the sound of his voice. Beautiful visions of Dean's spurting erection were already swirling in Castiel's mind at the man's powerful words. In all honesty, Dean didn't need to _ask_ Castiel to moan, because the angel was already doing it involuntarily. Small groans were tumbling from his open mouth when Dean's tongue trailed a wet line around the lobe of his ear. From there, the wet muscle traveled all the way down Castiel's neck and into the center of his chest. The angel's heart was pounding fiercely when Dean's emerald eyes flashed up at him. Passion and determination were potent in the man's stare when he leaned to the side to suction his lovely mouth over one of Cas's hardened nipples.

“Gnah,” the angel huffed, his breath steadily becoming labored, “Dean.”

Castiel cradled the back of Dean's soft head while the man gently suckled on the sensitive nub, watching his pink tongue roll all around the dark skin. The member between Cas's legs hardened tremendously at this action. Oh, Dean was so talented at giving pleasure, so skilled with the knowledge of human anatomy. How did he know Castiel would find this act to be so arousing? And where did he learn the art of flicking his tongue in such a blur?

“Ah, That – that feels so good, Dean,” Castiel praised, tugging at the man's jeans.

Dean seemed to be pleased with Cas's vocal acknowledgment. He gave the wet nub one more lick before kissing his way across the angel's chest to get to the other. Castiel tilted his torso to add Dean's trajectory, all to eager to feel the pleasure in complete symmetry. Another groan escaped the angel's mouth at the sensation of Dean's rough tongue rubbing against it. Castiel remembered to groan for him, knowing how much he loved the sound of erotic approval.

After servicing the angel's chest, Dean peppered kisses all around Castiel's tightened abdominal region in the descent downward. His perfect green eyes were locked with Cas's blues when he began to slide the black pants down the angel's legs. The heart inside Cas's ribcage was thumping wildly in anticipation, realizing that Dean's precious lips were on a straight course toward his swollen genitals...

“Yes, Dean,” Castiel panted, reaching down to scrape his fingers through the man's soft hair, “Ah, y – yes.”

Dean smiled a bit, before lowering his head to lick a line across the tight thin fabric of the angel's underwear. Castiel groaned loudly at the sensation, causing his erection to throb violently as he felt Dean's saliva soaking into the fabric against the shaft. The man's heated breath felt so nice against Cas's organ as he prodded his tongue teasingly over the fabric. Images of their past intercourse were flashing in the angel's mind at the feeling. Was Dean planning to service Castiel with his mouth again? His precious, breath-taking mouth? Oh, the thought alone had the potential to cause the angel's finish.

Just as Castiel hoped for, Dean began to lower the moist underwear, exposing the thumping shaft rapidly growing up Cas's stomach. The angel hummed a few quiet moans as Dean touched it; tracing those tender fingertips up and down the underside of the hot organ. With a steady pace and not a moment too soon, Dean flashed another stare up at Castiel before opening his mouth to take the erection inside.

“Ah!” Cas panted aloud, clutching the back of Dean's head, “D – Dean!”

Pleasure pulsed from Castiel's pelvis as the man bobbed his head along the shaft a few times. Dean brought his hand forward to clutch and stroke it while his lovely mouth lowered to nip at Cas's scrotum. As Dean trailed his tongue along the tense sack to suck one of the testicles between his lips, the angel couldn't help but think that the most impressive work the creator had ever accomplished was on Dean Winchester. His mouth in particular seemed to be distinctly paramount; strong teeth, swift tongue, pouted pink lips... And the whole of it seemed to become _explicitly_ prettier when interacting with Castiel's hard, throbbing erection.

Dean's hand continued to stroke as he brought his lovely mouth up to the head. His tongue swirled around the tip of Cas's shaft, slathering drool along the sensitive glans, before sliding it back inside the hot wet cave of his mouth.

“Gnah!” Castiel grunted, his hips involuntarily rocking deeper, “Oh, _Dean_! Your mouth is s – so _wet_! Ah!”

It was true. Dean's mouth was practically flowing with saliva, causing wet streaks to blend into his feverish stroking. Castiel was beginning to lose himself in the sensation. His thoughts were becoming jumbled and his body was acting on its own. The man was working so diligently – stroking and nodding and sucking – that Cas could feel himself rocketing toward the finish. The angel was curled up toward the foot of the bed, muscles tightened and eyes wide. He caught sight of Dean's free hand reaching down to undo the front of his own jeans. The man's eyes were still on Castiel, still focused on rising the angel to orgasm, but he was also taking out his own erection; grabbing it to stoke it in unison with his own bobbing head.

“Dean!” Castiel cried again, panting and clutching at the man's scalp, “Keep going! Gnah! F – faster, Dean! I'm – I'm so close!”

Whimpers tumbled from the angel's gasping mouth as he felt an orgasm building in his body. The sight of Dean stroking himself in the background while administering pleasure to Cas's erection was nearly overwhelming. Dean's wide emeralds were piercingly aroused and glistening, perhaps from having the angel's shaft prodding against the back of his throat. But even though Cas's erection was agitating his gag reflex, Dean never ceased his efforts. His mouth and hand quickened in speed at the angel's request while he catered to his own just beyond the scene.

“Ahh!” Castiel moaned loudly, his voice filling the room as he felt his scrotum seizing up for release, “ _Dean_!”

A giant cluster of pleasure passed over the angel's body in a whirlwind. His hands grasped, his toes curled, and his eyes rolled toward the heavens as he felt himself flooding Dean's mouth. In the blur of his orgasm, Castiel could hear Dean coughing and humming his own moans. While the angel quaked with pleasure on the bed, he forced himself to look down and focus on Dean. The man was huffing high pitched groans against Castiel's erection, stroking his own hard organ in a blur. Dean's lovely face was skewing with pleasure as he began to ejaculate all over the bed.

“Son of a _bitch_ ,” he grunted quietly, moist lips brushing against the angel's spent shaft, “Gnah!... C – Cas...”

After the last few drops of white fluid oozed down the man's fingers, the only sound left in the room was heavy breathing. Castiel was still trembling when he rested up on his elbows to stare at Dean. The angel glanced sadly along the bedsheets, where Dean's semen was drying on the fabric. It was a shame to see such a precious substance wasted like that. The man carefully raised his head toward Castiel, revealing his face to be splattered with white specks of the angel's semen.

“Holy... shit...” he panted, a smile flickering on his lips, “It looks like a freakin' jizz bomb went off in here.”

Castiel's eyebrows slightly slid together at Dean's words. Before he could question the meaning of the word 'jizz,' Dean was shakily crawling his way back toward the headboard, making his spent erection wobble around in the open as he moved. Castiel embraced the man instantly, reaching up to pull him down into a fierce kiss. It was a small gesture to show his appreciation for Dean's unyielding and effective service. And to remind him of the overwhelming amount of affection Castiel still had for him. Dean pulled away to smirk, his face still covered in white goo.

“Good job,” he complimented in a hushed sigh.

Castiel blinked strangely at the man's words. Good job? What was Dean praising him for?

“Good job on what, Dean?” he asked, curious.

A slight look of embarrassment came over the man's features and his emerald eyes flickered away.

“Uh, you know, on making me come to the sound of you screaming my name,” he replied, finally bringing his sight back as he raised the hand that was covered in his own semen, “That was one hell of a way to finish.”

Castiel smiled brightly. He loved being the reason for Dean's absolute euphoria; the reason for giving him untamed pleasure. The angel eyed the glistening white fluid among Dean's fingers as he reached up to clutch the man's wrist. This substance was simply too important to be wiped off and thrown away. Acting on instinctual impulse, Castiel pulled Dean's hand toward his mouth and stuck out his tongue. Before the fluid reached the wet muscle, however, Dean yanked his hand away.

“Ugh, would you quit _eating_ that shit?” the man chuckled, wiping the semen on the inside of Castiel's jacket before the angel could stop him, “You're gonna make yourself sick. Hell, it's gonna make _me_ sick.”

“We spoke of this just last night, Dean,” Castiel pointed out, “I feel it is wrong to waste such a precious gift -”

“It's not a gift, Cas,” Dean interrupted, “It's just come.”

“No, Dean. It is the essence of life,” Castiel corrected, reaching up to cup the man's heated face, “Your semen has the power to _reproduce_. To create another human life, which your genetic talents and traits and beauty can be passed into. My father's breath-taking process of multiplication is open to you, and I feel it is a terrible waste to deny it from spreading inside another body. Don't you see? Your small family could grow, if you ever decided to -”

Dean's hand suddenly flew up to slap over Castiel's mouth, preventing him from continuing. The angel's blue eyes searched the man's face, seeing discomfort and irritation hinted in his expression. Did Castiel say something wrong? Were his words too blunt? Cas could feel Dean's free hand gliding underneath his pillow, reaching deep underneath the angel to bring their faces close together. Dean's sweet breath was brushing over Cas's face as he spoke.

“Cas. If you want to swallow instead of spit, that's fine with me,” he said sternly, removing his hand from Castiel's lips to run it through the angel's hair, “But you and Sam are all the family I'll ever need, okay?”

The angel gulped under Dean's intense stare. When it came to Dean's affections, Sam was of his own caliber; set apart from everyone else. Castiel knew that Sam would always be the most important person in Dean's life, no matter the circumstances. But to hear, straight from the man's mouth, that Dean thought just as highly of _Castiel_ as he did his own _brother_? The simple words made the angel feel stunned with awe.

Dean glanced proudly along Castiel's astounded expression before lowering his head to join their lips. The angel kissed him with as much affection as possible, reaching up to hold him close. Castiel was considered to be part of Dean's family; not just _like_ family, but _already_ family. And the thought made Castiel feel lighter than a feather.

“I love you, Dean,” the angel pulled away to remind him, caressing the side of the man's lovely face.

“I love you, too, Mighty Mouse,” Dean replied, the smile inching farther across his lips, “Even if you do have a weird come-eating fetish.”

Castiel was so glad to see happiness back on his favorite human's face. It reminded the angel of all the terrible things Gabriel had done to Dean that day and made him feel regretful again.

“I can go and speak with Gabriel, if you would like,” Castiel offered, not wanting tomorrow to be a repeat of today, “and attempt to make him apologize.”

A small chuckle came from Dean's mouth at the notion. The man sighed blissfully before laying his head on Cas's shoulder and snuggling close.

“That's okay, Cas,” he dismissed, closing his emerald eyes peacefully, “I'm pretty sure he got the message from me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Needless to say, Dean is always prepared for a little competition and he doesn't mind getting his hands dirty to prove it. ;) I hope you guys enjoyed the smut in this chapter as much as Cas did. I know some of you don't care for angst, so I'll give you a little heads up: Chapter four is going to have lots of angst, especially toward the end. But don't worry. Because I never write a story that doesn't have a happy ending. ;) I very much appreciate all of you for taking the time to read and comment everyday! Thank you so much! :) Chapter four will be out soon!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to warn you guys that there is lots of angst in this chapter as well as a pretty bad cliffhanger. So if that's not your thing, you might want to wait until tomorrow's chapters are out to continue, so that it won't be so painful. But you are more than welcome to keep reading now! Either way, please keep in mind that this is not the end and that there is more happiness to be had. ;) I love you all! Thank you so much for your support! Please enjoy! <3

Dean was humming _Enter Sandman_ when strolled happily up to the elevator and tapped the button for the first floor. He spun around to give Cas a big ol' smooch afterward, holding the back of the angel's soft head to press their lips firmly together. Cas seemed a little surprised by the random kiss and stood motionless while it happened. But Dean couldn't help himself. The man just felt so damn _good_ this morning, full of energy and happiness. Not to mention buckets of pride. Dean had beaten the trickster at his own game  and had amazing sex with Cas in the process. How could it get any better than that?

“You seem very happy this morning, Dean,” Cas mentioned, sounding a little breathless.

Dean smirked at Cas's relieved face as the elevator doors 'dinged' open behind them. The man tugged the angel on board and pulled him into a tight embrace. Dean traced his hands along the back of Cas's coat and lost himself in the angel's perfect eyes. Man, how did Cas get so hot? How much time did his dad have to spend making him? A few centuries, maybe?

“I _am_ happy, Cas,” Dean replied, pecking another kiss against Cas's lips as the elevator began to drop, “and _you_ are smokin' hot. Did you know that?”

“But, my vessel's body temperature is within normal levels,” Cas said, making a weird face, “Does it feel heated to you?”

Dean gave a hardy laugh and shook his head. Wow, Cas could be so dense sometimes. It was really amusing that a being as powerful as Cas could get stumped on something as simple as a common phrase. And Dean secretly loved the bewildered look that would cross the angel's face when he didn't get the joke. In fact, it was one of Dean's favorite things about Cas.

“No, you're just really freakin' attractive,” Dean corrected, letting go of Cas to grab one of his hands.

“Oh. Um, thank you, Dean,” Cas said quietly. He gave a slight pause and stared at Dean meaningfully before saying, “I value your opinion above anyone else's, you know. And I'm utterly honored to be thought of so highly by you... and to be considered part of your family.”

The rock that had manifested in Dean's stomach the day before was back. It sat heavily in the bottom of his gut as he shared a stare with the angel he adored. Dean felt that he didn't deserve to be told things like this; to be loved so deeply by someone that all his past sins were automatically forgiven. But, more important than that... Dean knew in his heart that Cas _didn't_ belong in his family. Cas was too perfect – too _holy_ – to be burdened with the name 'Winchester.' Yes, Dean wanted to be as close to Cas as he could possibly get for as long as fate would allow... But to let Cas become part of his so-called ' _family_?' Dean just couldn't let that kind of curse poison his precious angel...

The elevator doors pulled Dean from his deep thoughts, sliding open to expose the sunny hotel lobby. Dean's hand tightened around Cas's warm fingers and he tugged the angel into the sunlit room to start for the dining area. An urge to flea had suddenly spiked in Dean's body. Ugh, he didn't want to deal with feelings and shit right now, not while he was still buzzing around on cloud nine.

“Want some lunch, Cas?” Dean asked, subconsciously trying to change the subject as he spotted an empty booth, “Burger? Jar of honey? Anything?”

The man gestured to the open seat, letting Cas slide in first. The angel glanced strangely at him but sat down anyway. Dean slid in next to him instantly, scooting as close as possible. The obvious choice would have been to sit across from Cas so he could stare straight at that gorgeous face. But, by sitting next to him, Dean was leaving open the option to touch and kiss; two things he was definitely in the mood for doing.

“Um. No, thank you,” Cas said carefully, probably realizing that the offer was only Dean's half-assed attempt to shift the conversation.

“Suit yourself,” Dean shrugged, reaching under the table to grab the angel's thigh as he strained to see the menu on the backboard across the room, “I'm thinking a huge slab of steak. Maybe some bacon.”

“You sure do love cramming meat inside that skull cave of yours, don't you, Pinky?”

Every hair on the back of Dean's neck stood on end at the sound of the annoying voice coming from behind him. Oh, God. Not _that_ asshole. Dean watched in discomfort as Gabriel made his way around the table – prancing like a four-year-old in a toy store – and plopped himself down in the vacant seat. Dean's eyes instantly narrowed at the pompous bastard's smug face. What the hell did he want? And why was he acting so perky this morning? Did Dean's plan not work? Did the sound of Cas moaning Dean's name last night not piss him off like Dean wanted?

“I think you might want to get yourself tested, lil' bro,” the archangel mumbled toward Cas while he unrolled some silver wear, “This animal has been around the junkyard a few times, if you know what I mean. Probably not safe to stick your angel blade in that filthy mouth of his.”

Dean's good mood was officially dead. The bastard! How dare he just sit down and start talking shit! Gabriel's rude words shot Dean's rage through the roof – but anger was just as quick to fall over Cas, too. The angel's blue eyes seemed to light up with fury as he braced a forearm on the table to lean forward threateningly.

“Do not speak of Dean's mouth in that vulgar manner,” he stated boldly, his deep voice rumbling like thunder, “I will not tolerate unkind words against him, Gabriel.”

Dean swallowed roughly, glancing at Cas with surprise. Oh, shit. Cas was using that voice again, the dominating tone that never failed to give Dean a hard-on. The angel looked absolutely fed up with the archangel's shit and Dean was glad to see it. Maybe Gabriel pissed off Cas just as much as he pissed off Dean...

“Whoa there, baby duck,” the trickster snickered, holding his hands up dramatically, “No need to get your feathers all ruffled. I'm just here to eat some pancakes, okay? I've gotta make sure I save room for dessert, though,” the archangel paused to turn his sight to Dean and his smirk grew dark and teasing, “'Cause I've got a giant peach making its way downstairs, right now. And I'm gonna eat every single bite of it.”

Dean's glare intensified. He knew exactly what the little blonde prick was doing. Gabriel was trying to get a rise out of Dean again by bringing Sam back into the picture. Which was working of course, because Dean could already feel the anger burning in his chest. But the trickster was forgetting one little detail of his plan, again – over-looking the tiny fact that his angelic brother was in love with the same man he was pissing off...

Dean returned the snarly grin to Gabriel as he leaned over to gently press his lips against Cas's cheekbone. The two of them never broke eye contact while Dean softly kissed the angel and the man was glad to see the trickster's smile dim as a result. Ha. That always seemed to get him.

“Did you have fun last night, Cas?” Dean casually asked, petting the angel's thigh under the table with his eyes still locked with Gabriel's golden stare, “because it sure sounded like you did.”

Cas didn't answer Dean's question. The angel was probably too busy turning red and palming at Dean's groping hand to have even heard the words. Oh, but Gabriel had heard them perfectly. His stupid grin vanished for a second before crawling its way back. Dean caught that the archangel did a flicking motion with his hand but didn't think much of it. Maybe it was just some weird gesture for trying to rid his mind of the memory of Cas's moans or something.

Before another word could be said, a waitress appeared at the table. She was carrying a plateful of steaming flapjacks and a bottle of syrup. Dean blinked himself out of the staring contest with the trickster to glance up at her.

“Here you are, sir. Please enjoy,” she smiled, not even bothering to acknowledge Dean or Cas.

“Thanks,” the trickster called as she turned to leave.

Gabriel chuckled and rubbed his hands together as he gazed the huge stack of pancakes. Dean rolled his eyes. It seemed like every little thing the trickster did pissed Dean off to no end. Ugh, why did he have to be so animated and flamboyant? Better yet, how could Sam find any of that attractive?

Amazingly, as soon as Sam crossed Dean's mind, the kid suddenly appeared at the table. He was carrying his laptop and the case folder, looking like he had just rolled out of bed. Sam was smiling at the stupid archangel across the table when Gabriel spotted him. Dean could see a shift in the archangel's expression at Sam's arrival. He was practically giving the kid goo-goo eyes.

“Peach!” the trickster sang, sliding over to give Sam room to sit, “What the hell took you so long, kid? I was about to send out a hunting party for your giant ass. Get it? A hunting party? 'Cause you're a moose?”

Dean rolled his eyes again. What the hell was with the moose thing? Was it an inside joke or something? Dean glanced at Cas but the angel looked just as lost as he was. Whatever Sam and Gabriel had was obviously beyond their understanding.

“I had to get dressed,” Sam replied, opening his laptop before glancing at the archangel's plate, “Why are you eating breakfast, anyway? Angels don't need to eat.”

“They don't need to have sex either,” Gabe purred, giving Sam a seductive look, “but that's never stopped us before. Has it, Sammy-boy?”

Dean grimaced at the trickster's gross words. Sammy turned a little red as he glanced around the room. Why wouldn't he look across the table? Was he mad at Dean or something?

“Good morning to you too, Sammy,” Dean said grimly, wondering why the hell Sam hadn't spoken to him yet.

Sam didn't even look at him. He just went about his business, typing away on his computer. Dean eyed his little brother, feeling a bit of guilt bubbling in his chest. Was Sam upset about the walkie-talkie thing? Was he ignoring Dean on purpose?

“Must you talk about sex this early in the morning?” Sam replied to Gabriel, obviously ignoring Dean's comment.

“It's almost noon, kid,” Gabriel said, taking a bite out of his pancakes.

“Yeah. Isn't that a little late for pancakes there, shorty?” Dean asked, shooting Gabriel a narrowed glance.

Gabriel briefly returned the glare but Sam still didn't look up from his computer. He was acting like Dean wasn't even talking, let alone sitting right in front of him.

“Still,” Sam sighed, “I don't want Dean and Cas to come down here and hear us talking about it. Last night was bad enough.”

Dean blinked strangely at his little brother. What the hell was he talking about? Dean and Cas were sitting right in front of him. Dean glanced over at Cas, knowing that he heard the words too. The angel's eyebrows were knitted together and he looked confused, if not a bit surprised.

“Sam?” Cas asked, leaning forward on the table a bit.

Sam didn't look away from his laptop even for Cas. The dude couldn't be _that_ upset, could he? No, there was something else going on. Something Dean didn't like... Gabriel flashed a grin at Dean as he raised a fork-full of pancake to Sam's lips. The kid eyed it before giving the archangel a smirk.

“Open up that cake-hole,” the trickster said, waving the food around, “That huge body of yours requires energy.”

Sam was grinning when he let his mouth fall open to let Gabriel feed him. Dean grumbled in annoyance and looked away quickly. He and Cas might have done a few flirty things in front of Sam, but _feeding_ each other? That shit was too much for public viewing. Dean's skin was crawling, hearing Sam chew so damn loud.

“Oh, come on, Sam,” Dean groaned, “Cut that shit out.”

Again, Sam acted like he didn't hear Dean speaking. He just chewed up his food and swallowed it, staring at Gabriel as if the archangel was a gift from God. Dean glared at the interaction. Why wouldn't Sam acknowledge him? Why wouldn't he look at his brother? Or Cas?

“How does it taste, Sammy-boy?” Gabriel asked, putting on his bedroom eyes.

“Not as good as you do,” Sam said, his voice housing obvious arousal.

Dean's eyes shot to his little brother with shock. Did Sam really just say that?! He knew that shit made Dean sick, right? Why would he say things like that while his brother was sitting right there?

“Sammy,” Dean grumbled, “I don't see how -”

The man's words got lost in his throat when the trickster leaned up to kiss Sam. Dean felt sick immediately, watching the two of them start to tongue each other at the table. Ew, that was his little brother! And he was swapping spit with a tiny archangel! _Right in front of Dean_! Didn't they know they were sitting in public?! Was Sam trying to piss Dean off?

“Fine,” Dean spat toward the two of them as he attempted to slide out of the seat, “You want me to leave? I get it! I'll leave!”

Dean's eyebrows slid together as he clutched the table. When he tried to move, he found that he couldn't lift his feet. Everything below his waist felt frozen in place, glued to the seat. Dread quickly fell over Dean as he struggled to get up. What the hell? Why couldn't he move his ass?

“Cas?” he said, hoping his blue-eyed angel would have an answer for him.

Cas, too, seemed to be aware of it – because he was just as stuck. Dean watched him push at the table in an effort to move but it was no use. The two of them were basically fused to the seat. Cas's eyes suddenly snapped across the table, his eyes raw with seriousness.

“Release us,” he demanded.

Dean nearly gasped out loud. This was _him_! The damn _trickster_ was doing this! Gabriel heard Cas's voice because his golden eyes flashed toward him with amusement. But he kept on kissing Sam anyway. Rage was swirling inside Dean again. Making someone _listen_ to you molesting their brother was one thing, but to make them _watch_ it in person was far worse...

“Mmm,” Sam smiled, pulling himself away from Gabriel's stupid mouth, “I need to get this done.”

“But, sweetheart!” Gabriel pouted dramatically, forcing himself onto the kid, “I wanna suck on your face! Don't you like making out?”

“Dammit, Sammy! Don't do it!” Dean nearly begged, even though Sam was ignoring him.

“Well, yeah,” Sam sighed anyway, glancing around, “but -”

Gabriel instantly smothered Sammy with another kiss, to which Sam responded earnestly. Dean was just about done with all this horseshit. He reached forward to slam Sam's computer shut and get his attention – but his hand slapped against thin air. Dean blinked, feeling along an invisible wall. So that was why Sam couldn't hear him! The damn trickster had put up some kind of wall! A giant cluster of panic swelled in Dean's chest. How was he going to get out of this? How was he supposed to ignore the kiss happening in front of him?

“Cas,” Dean called again, still trying to move, “Fly us out of here!”

“I can't, Dean,” he replied sadly, banging on the invisible wall, “Gabriel's trap is too sound.”

“We've gotta do something, dammit! I can't stand watching this!” Dean said truthfully.

Gabriel's hand was snaking its way inside Sammy's shirt now, touching him inappropriately. Dean's heart was pounding with rage. This wasn't right. The trickster was all over his little brother and there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it. And Gabriel was just as smug as ever, flashing glances of pride toward Dean while he tongued Sam. Dean could feel his anger trying to get the best of him. It would be so easy to kill that bastard. One stab from an angel blade and this would all be over.

From the corner of Dean's eye, he could see that Cas was doing something. The man blinked to the side to see red markings all over the table in front of Cas. It took Dean a second to realize that it was an angel banishing symbol because Cas was still in the process of making it. The dude had sliced open his own arm and was wiping up the blood with his index finger, using it to scrawl the shapes on the table. Dean's eyes were fixed on it, unable to look away. Whoa, Cas really meant business... After drawing the triangle at the top, the angel raised his hand over the symbol and flashed his sapphire eyes toward his brother.

“Release us,” he demanded again, “Now.”

Gabriel definitely heard his angelic brother's voice. The trickster plucked his lips away from Sam's to turn a glare toward Cas. Dean was overwhelmingly proud to see that Cas could still get one-up on the archangel. It was about time someone put him in his place.

“Don't do it,” Gabriel warned, putting on his best threatening face.

“Release us and I won't,” Cas said, his deep and powerful tone giving Dean chills, “Otherwise, you can say goodbye to Sam.”

Sam looked completely lost. His eyes were glancing blankly across the table and back at the archangel next to him, seeming confused.

“D – Don't what?” Sam asked, apparently still thinking that he and Gabriel were alone.

The trickster's glare remained fixed on Cas for a moment before he finally raised his hand. Gabriel made a snide face toward him but eventually snapped his fingers together. Dean could immediately feel his legs being set free. He wiggled them under the table and clenched his fists. Sam's eyes flew wide, suddenly glancing between Dean and Cas with shock as he pulled himself away from Gabriel

“Wha -?” he managed to say.

Sam's pale face made Dean's anger regain momentum. He pointed a stern finger at the trickster, setting his eyes firmly on Gabriel's stupid face.

“You do that shit again,” Dean growled, “and I'll deep fry your ass in holy oil.”

“Ooooh, scary,” Gabriel hummed dramatically, rolling his eyes.

“Do what again?” Sam asked, looking genuinely lost, “What the hell happened?”

“Dean and I have been sitting here the whole time, Sam,” Cas told him, still glaring at Gabriel as he lowered his hand away from the angel-banishing symbol, “behind Gabriel's invisible barrier.”

Dean was glad to see the horror fall across Sam's face. At least he knew now, what kind of shit he had been doing right in front of Dean and Cas. Maybe that could serve as a reminder not to make out with anyone in freakin' public again. The kid's huge eyes flashed down at the archangel.

“Gabriel!” he groaned.

“Oh, lighten up, kid,” the trickster tried to dismiss, “It was just a little fun.”

Dean turned his attention to Cas, glancing over to see if he healed okay. Dean actually took the angel's arm and inspected it, seeing that the sleeve had soaked up some blood but his arm was perfectly normal. The tightening knot of worry and anger was drawing up in Dean's stomach again as he helped Cas slide toward the end of the seat. That damn trickster; forcing his own brother to cut himself open. What kind of asshole did shit like that?

Sam's red face was entirely focused on his computer now, probably trying to forget about the whole thing. But Dean sure as hell wouldn't be able to forget any of that. It was practically seared into the cavity of his brain. He was probably gonna have nightmares about Sam and Gabriel tonguing each other for the rest of this life.

“Geez,” Dean said, glancing between the two of them, “Why don't you just climb up on the table and screw each other next time?!”

“That's an excellent idea, Pinky,” Gabriel shot back, wearing his smug face again, “I'll make sure you have a front row seat for that, too.”

Dean stood up and reached out a hand for Cas when he narrowed his eyes at the blonde bastard next to Sam.

“You know what? Bite me, you little prick,” he hissed back.

“Sorry, pal. I only bite your brother,” Gabe snipped.

“ _Both of you shut the hell up!_ ” Sam suddenly yelled.

Everyone in the immediate area seemed to look toward Sam, including a couple of waitresses. Dean could understand why the kid was upset. He had kind of been the centerpiece in Gabriel's trap. But didn't Dean warn him about that? Didn't Dean try to explain that a trickster was a trickster no matter what? Sam huffed a bit, before gathering up his computer and starting for the dinner bar. Nobody tried to stop him as he went.

“Now look what you've done,” Gabriel spat toward Dean.

Dean spun around to glare down at the archangel. Was he freakin' serious?!

“What _I've_ done?! Take a look around, idiot! This is all _your_ fault!” Dean corrected.

“Dean.”

The man turned to look at the blue-eyed angel next to him. Cas had placed his hand on Dean's shoulder and was staring at him with soft eyes. He looked very wise all of the sudden, as if all the millenniums of time and knowledge were present in his stare.

“Arguing with him will get you nowhere,” Cas informed, probably speaking from experience, “You will end up speaking in circles.”

Dean swallowed harshly. God, Cas was so calm and collected. He must have been used to shit like this happening all the time. Geez, how much torture did Cas have to go through in heaven with Gabriel? Dean tensed again at the thought of the trickster playing hurtful pranks on Cas. A protective sense seemed to fill Dean up as he looked at his angel. Gabriel was coming dangerously close to sliding a toe over the line. One more screw up and Dean was probably gonna lose it... Sam darted back to the standing group, looking stern and done with bullshit.

“The vampire is feeding on elderly women from nursing homes,” he informed, “and I think we can catch him if we monitor one of the buildings.”

Dean blinked toward his little brother, trying to remember what the hell he was talking about. Oh, yeah. The case. Dean had forgotten all about the damn thing. The man took the time to think about it, wondering which nursing homes were close in town.

“What an asshole,” Gabriel mumbled, “Who would want to kill a bunch of sweet-little-ol' grannies like that?”

“Apparently this guy,” Sam answered.

Dean rolled his eyes. Gabriel didn't really care. He was too wrapped up in worrying about his next prank to give a shit about anyone else.

“Which building?” Dean asked.

Actually, a case would be a good distraction for everyone. And killing something would probably make Dean feel tons better. Sammy took a breath before giving Dean an answer.

“I think the old-folks' home in town is his hotspot,” he answered, “Pineview Acres.”

“Then come on,” Dean said to his brother, reaching back to take Cas's hand, “Drop off your giant baby upstairs so we can go.”

Sammy instantly glared at Dean for calling Gabriel names. But hey, it was the truth.

“Actually, Ken doll,” the trickster piped up, “I was gonna stick around here anyway, and get the love-nest ready for your brother. That's right, peach,” he paused to tug on Sam's long arm, “Our bed is gonna rock so hard tonight, we might start an earthquake.”

Dean rolled his eyes, feeling yesterday's food trying to rise up through his throat. For God's sake. Couldn't Gabriel go five minutes without mentioning something disgusting?! Dean tugged Cas by the hand as he began to stomp away. He didn't want to hear another word from that asshole.

“Thank God, that asshole is staying here,” Dean murmured to his angel as he started for the parking lot.

“Who, Dean?” Cas asked.

Dean shot a strange look at him as he led the way outside.

“Your stupid brother,” Dean answered.

A small look seemed to cross Cas's pretty face. Surprisingly, the angel seemed to be a little _hurt_ by Dean's words. The man slowed his steps on the sidewalk to take the time to meet eyes with Cas. Ah, hell. He forgot about the soft-spot Cas had for Gabriel. Dean couldn't understand how Cas could care so much about someone that would be so mean to him, but it didn't change the fact that he did. Cas loved that damn guy... Just like Juliet loved her cousin Tybalt...

“I'm... I'm sorry,” Dean forced out.

Dean may have hated Gabriel, but his love for Cas was greater. He was glad to see the angel's small smile return.

“It's okay, Dean. Your anger understandable,” he replied softly.

Dean took the time to lean forward and kiss the angel again. No matter how much shit he went through – no matter how many times his anger returned or his blue skies clouded over – a single kiss from Cas was all it took to make Dean feel better. He pulled away to lean their foreheads together and lose himself in those amazing blue eyes.

“Let's go kill a monster,” he smirked.

* * *

Castiel took another deep breath as he glanced around the Impala windows. The sky beyond the glass had turned starkly black, housing multiple glistening stars. Dean, Sam, and the angel had been sitting in the car for hours, staking-out the retirement home Sam had suggested. But there had been no sign of the vampire. Castiel could tell that the Winchester brothers were refusing to speak to one another. Most of this mission had been carried out in silence. Not a word from either of them. It worried the angel to think that Gabriel had disrupted their relationship. It was the one solid truth of the universe – that Dean and Sam Winchester would always stick together as a team. And Castiel would fight to protect their special bond... No matter the cost.

Around eight fifteen, a man suddenly passed by the Impala. Castiel could tell immediately that he was not human. His aura was obviously vampire just as Sam suggested. The Winchester brothers leaned toward the windshield to study him as he made his way toward the entrance of the facility. Not a word was spoken to him even though he breezed pasted the security guards and into the building. Dean and Sam finally looked toward each other then, sharing some kind of unspoken message. Apparently, this was the person they had been waiting for.

Castiel followed behind the Winchesters as they began to climb out of the car. The angel paused by the door to look up at the tall building, wondering why this particular retirement home had multiple floors. They usually only consisted of a single floor, due to the falling tendency of elderly people. Castiel continued to glance from the windows to the brothers, secretly listening to their conversation, as they opened the Impala's trunk.

“I can't wait to kill this thing,” Dean commented, sounding eager, “I've been dying to gank somebody for days.”

“Let's just get this over with,” Sam replied, sounding weary.

While he waited, one of the high windows caught Castiel's attention. The glass was sliding upward and shadows were moving inside the room. The angel studied the commotion, attempting to figure out what was taking place. Was the vampire killing yet another victim? Had someone caught him in the act and attempted to apprehend him? The figures were inching closer to the window. Dangerously close...

Before Castiel knew it, a body was falling from the great height. Seeing that the body's trajectory was directed toward the car, the angel allowed his instincts to take over.

“Dean! Look out!” he warned.

Castiel flew to the Winchesters and flew them out of harm's way, causing them to be tossed through the air. As they landed on their backs against the asphalt and the angel hovered over them protectively, spreading his wings to shield them from the damage. Behind him, the body smashed into the Impala, filling the silent parking lot with the sound of crunching metal and breaking glass.

The angel hesitated over the brothers to make sure that nothing else would fall from the window, before carefully standing back up. He assisted Dean to his feet and the three of them all finally took in the sight of the Impala. The body that had fallen from the window belonged to that of the vampire. The entire roof of the car was caved in underneath him, having smashed into it with its heavy weight. All of the glass windows of the car were broken out, peppering the ground with shiny debris. Castiel's mouth fell open at the horrific scene. Dean's most cherished possession was utterly destroyed.

“ _B – baby_ ,” the man breathed, his voice full of shock and pain.

Dean's face was drained of all color, making Castiel's heart break. The angel placed a comforting hand on the man's back as the three of them carefully stepped toward the broken vehicle to inspect it further. The vampire was undeniably dead. Steam was rising from his body, and there were knitting needles pierced into his flesh. Castiel studied this strange sight, wondering what could have possibly killed this powerful being.

It was then, that Cas noticed the vampire's eyes.

They were gone, replaced by blackened burned holes. There was, of course, only one explanation for such a state. This vampire had been smote by an angel. Blinded by its true form. Castiel's stomach turned. As much as it pained him, Cas knew the Winchesters needed to be aware of this.

“Dean,” the angel whispered, pointing toward the vampire's face.

Castiel watched as both men followed his finger. For a moment, they simply stared at the evidence and let the information sink in. But, then, realization slowly bloomed across their faces. Castiel gulped, seeing the look of total rage on Dean's precious expression. There was no denying who had killed this vampire and who was responsible for the destruction of the Impala. There was only one angel bold enough to do something as terrible as this.

And that was Gabriel.

Sam's face was blank with shock, eyes large and mouth hanging open. Castiel was more concerned with Dean's reaction. His breathing was gradually morphing into a heavy pant and his broad shoulders were slowly squaring. The sharp weapon in his hand was tightening in his grasp as he blinked furiously along his broken car. Castiel felt utterly helpless. What could he possibly say to talk Dean down from rage?

Suddenly, Dean was darting away, running forcefully toward the entrance of the building with his weapon drawn. Sam was close at Castiel's side when the two of them chased after Dean. The angel knew what he was preparing to do. Dean was ready to kill Gabriel by any means necessary. The courtesy he had given the archangel was gone and his temper was out of control. There would be no stopping Dean from doing what he wanted, now. All Castiel could do was attempt to prevent Dean from killing the only brother he had left.

Sam and Cas were both calling Dean's name when the man bolted up the stairs and into a certain room. Elderly women were sitting in rocking chairs and paused their knitting to see them arrive. Castiel caught sight of Gabriel standing near the open window at the far wall and his heart ached fiercely. Why would Gabriel do this? Why would he hurt everyone in such a way? Dean paused his steps to grip his weapon, panting heavily as the archangel turned to face them.

“Sorry, fellas,” Gabriel hummed, stepping over to lean on a rocking chair, “Looks like you're a little late to the party. Me and the knitting club here have already made sure that guy received his just-desserts.”

Gabriel's actions may have lit Dean's fuse, but his words were what finally caused the man to explode. Dean suddenly began running toward the archangel, raising the sharp weapon up over his head. Castiel gasped at the sight, feeling a burst of energy rush through him. He had to do something. Castiel could not allow Dean to harm his brother, nor allow his brother to harm Dean. The two of them needed to be apart from each other as soon as possible.

Castiel lurched forward to clutch Dean's tense shoulder and instantly flew, carrying the man away in his arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I know. I'm a terrible person. I let Gabriel destroy the Impala. :( But don't worry! Everything is going to work out, I promise! *spoiler alert* The Impala will be fixed. :) Also, I know a lot of you have talked about it, but unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on how you look at it) Cas doesn't find out about Dean planting the walkie-talkie. I wanted to keep Cas on Dean's side for most of this story and I knew it would break his heart, so I kept him in the dark. I imagine that he would react similarly to how Sam acted in this chapter after Gabriel did the booth thing; embarrassed, violated, outraged... but still able to forgive him. Because Cas loves Dean so much that he will always forgive him. Eventually. ;) _But!_ Cas will still become pissed at Dean before this story is over. Lots of emotional things are still to come, including fluff, forgiveness... and smut. ;) If you are still willing to continue reading this story after this gut-wrenching chapter, I'm very thankful to you and appreciate your trust! :) I promise, things will get better from here. :) Thank you all sooo much! The next chapter will be out soon!  <3


	5. Chapter 5

Castiel immediately flew Dean back to their suite in the White Swan Hotel, carefully planting him by the broken window. The angel stood frozen by the wall as he watched the man stagger forward a bit. Dean was still clutching the large sharp weapon in his hand, still attempting to run toward a target that was no longer in front of him as if his senses had not yet caught up with Castiel's flight. Dean eventually stumbled to a stop though, halting his fierce steps by the end of the bed. His arm carefully lowered but his shoulders did not relax. He was still huffing harsh breaths, appearing unable to get his temper under control.

Castiel continued to stare at Dean's back from a distance, watching the man's tense shoulders rapidly heaving as he panted angrily. The angel knew that it would probably take a reasonable amount of time for him to calm down. The sight of the Impala's mangled body had been utterly devastating, even to Castiel. It was only fitting that Dean would lash out because of the destruction. And the angel truly hoped that by bringing Dean back to their hotel room – back to a safe place where he and Cas had shared so many intimate moments – the man would be calmed by its quiet atmosphere and familiar surrounding. But the peaceful environment did not seem to be effecting him at all. Castiel struggled to figure out how to relieve Dean of his anger. What could possibly be done to calm the man down?

“Dean,” Castiel whispered softly, hoping his voice might persuasive.

In a flash, Dean was suddenly lunging across the room, stomping over to barrel into the cart of pie that loitered by the far wall. Castiel flinched at the sound of the metal tray crashing to the floor and the sight of pastry flying through the air. Obviously, Dean's anger had not faded in the least... After demolishing the cart, Dean bounded toward the bedside table, smacking the porcelain lamp from the surface to rip the wooden box from the wall. The lamp smashed to pieces on the floor, adding destructive sound to Dean's aggressive behavior. The man was on a full-scale rampage, destroying every tangible thing in the room.

“Dean,” Castiel said again, taking a hesitant step forward.

The angel's voice was drowned out in the sound of the the wooden bedside table cracking apart. Dean had knocked it onto its side and was now kicking it with full force, using his large boot to smash a hole into the front. Castiel gulped at the sight of Dean's ruthless anger and couldn't help but imagine that this was what the man might have done to _Gabriel_. If Cas had not flown Dean away at the precise moment that he did, all of this destructive force would have been directed at the archangel instead. It was a very good thing that Castiel had acted so quickly...

The angel wasn't sure if he should allow Dean to continue venting his anger or not. The hotel furniture was taking quite a bit of abuse and Dean wasn't slowing down or pausing to breathe. He was beginning to growl like an animal; huffing heated breaths, pounding on the walls, and morphing into some savage beast. The sight was proving to be too much for Castiel, who favored Dean's docile side. The man needed to calm down. He needed to use his mind instead of his emotions.

“Dean,” Castiel repeated once more, finally stepping up to place a firm hand on the man's shoulder.

The instant Cas touched him, Dean whipped around. His large hands took fist-fulls of the front of the angel's clothes and he lunged forward, marching Castiel backward until his back slammed hard against the wall. Castiel gasped at Dean's forcefulness, stunned that the man would handle him in such a hateful way. Had Castiel angered him, too? Was the angel suddenly the target for the man's powerful rage?

Before Cas knew it, Dean was kissing him furiously.

The angel was absolutely bewildered by this action. He blinked several times as Dean's tongue penetrated his mouth without mercy. Why was Dean performing this affectionate action in such a furious way? He was still pressing Castiel against the wall, still shoving his hard fists into the angel's shoulders. But his tongue was slathering inside Cas's mouth, nearly choking the angel with the wet muscle. Did Dean suddenly wish to have intercourse? It didn't seem like an appropriate time for such a loving act. But was Dean suddenly in the mood to have sex? The mixed bodily signals were so confusing.

Dean was truly acting like an animal. The man was still panting as they kissed, growling lowly from his throat and clawing at Castiel's clothes. The angel desperately struggled to understand why Dean was acting this way and figure out the correct way to respond. The man briefly pulled Castiel from the wall only to shove him against it once again, slamming his back flat against the hard surface. Of course, it didn't harm the angel to be pushed. But the motion seemed deliberate, as if Dean was trying to send a message without using words. Did he want Cas to do something? Did he want Cas... to be dominant?

Hoping to test his theory, Castiel reached up to take the front of Dean's jacket in his strong grip. The angel spun to face the wall, yanking Dean around to shove him against the same flat surface. A small sound slipped from the man's throat at the motion; a deep growl mixed with an erotic grunt. Dean's relentless tongue was quick to return to Castiel's mouth, but the angel felt that he understood what was happening now. Dean _wanted_ to be treated this way. For some unknown reason, the man felt he needed this harsh physical interaction. He needed blunt force _and_ intense sex.

Right now, Dean needed sexual combat. And Castiel was happy to oblige.

Once he understood what was happening, Castiel allowed his tongue to fight back against Dean's, turning their kiss into a moist fight. He fiercely tugged at the man's clothes, ripping them from Dean's body with enough force to fill the room with the sound of shredding fibers. Another sound erupted from Dean's mouth as he clawed at the angel's clothes in return. He wasn't exactly removing them from Castiel's body, but rather tugging at them angrily, as if they were the very cause of his distress. His rough manner mimicked that of a stubborn gorilla and his growls were reminiscent of a wounded lion. Dean's primal nature was shining through brightly.

Although he had more than enough strength to assert dominance over the man, Castiel allowed Dean to push back against him. Dean's clutching hands soon drove hard against the angel's shoulders, knocking him off balance. The two of them eventually tumbled to the floor, still grabbing at each others' clothes and muting each other with their tongues. Saliva was smeared all around Castiel's mouth when he wrestled Dean on the carpeted floor. Of course, the angel kept in mind to be somewhat gentle with him, especially after accidentally braking both of his wrists a few nights before. And he allowed Dean to roll on top of him for a moment, to let him throw his masculine weight around a bit. But, eventually, Castiel gained the leverage to toss Dean onto his back and pin him down.

An authentic moan rumbled from the man's lips as their mouths briefly parted. There was no denying that Dean _enjoyed_ this type of interaction. Wrestling for dominance aroused him unlike anything else. While Dean thrashed under Castiel's hold, the angel took the time to slide a hand between them and cup the man's groin. The outline of Dean's hardening shaft was prominent against the denim, confirming Cas's assumptions. Dean's body demanded intercourse whether his mind was aware of it or not.

As his strong hands began to rip along the back seam of the angel's coat, Dean's mouth suddenly released Cas's. The man was biting at Castiel's neck now, creating soft indentations to the skin with his gnashing teeth. While Dean focused his efforts elsewhere, Castiel began to break the jeans from the man's body, using a single hand to shred the tough fabric open. Dean's rapidly-growing erection bounded free from the denim and wiggled around as he flailed about. The man's legs seemed to spread open on their own, as if his body was allowing Castiel to gain access to it even though Dean continued to buck and writhe beneath him. The motion, along with Dean's painful teeth against his sensitive neck, caused Cas's own member to begin to swell. Dean wanted it so much. It was only fitting that it aroused Castiel in return...

Castiel tore the remaining denim away from Dean's body with a few stern tugs. Once the man's lower half was completely exposed, the angel gathered a good bit of saliva in his mouth and used his fingers to begin transferring it from his mouth to Dean's tight opening. The ring of muscle clinched at Castiel's prodding touch, but the man's legs spread even farther apart, prompting him to continue. Dean was still fighting back against Cas, still grunting and growling and wiggling around as the angel readied him, but he was also angling his backside toward the angel's pelvis. Dean was offering himself to Castiel in an aggressive way and Cas couldn't help but be aroused by it. Oh, Dean's hole was so tight. And his teeth were so sharp...

While pinning him to the carpet with his free hand, Cas removed his fingers from Dean's loosened hole with the other to rip open his own pants. The angel's hardened shaft was set free and already pointing toward Dean's entrance. In a mad dash, Castiel shifted on top of Dean to position the head of his hard organ against the man's entrance. The shaft slid inside in a single smooth motion, causing a howl to erupt from Dean's panting mouth. The man's hands clutched tighter at Castiel's coat as the angel began to thrust. Cas was taking pleasure in his work, enjoying the sensation of being inside Dean and treasuring the look of angered bliss on Dean's precious face.

Dean growled between breaths as Castiel's hard thrusts jostled him on the carpeted floor. Despite the sounds of pleasure he emitted, Dean was still writhing around angrily beneath Cas; still clawing at the angel's chest and biting him between harsh kisses. Castiel continued to try to hold him still as the intercourse took place, to help him calm down and enjoy the act. The angel actually began to think that Dean might not want to have sex. Cas slowed his thrusts in an attempt to figure out if Dean truly wanted intercourse or not. But as soon as the angel's thrusts halted, Dean's emerald eyes flashed wide with rage. His gripping hands released Cas's coat to take hold of the angel's hips and tug them close, pulling Castiel's shaft back into himself. The angel groaned and complied with Dean's needs, picking up speed to thrust faster into the man. Apparently, he _did_ want the intercourse...

Another kiss morphed into a battle as Castiel laid into Dean's backside. Soft tongues were scraping against sharp teeth as the two of them acquired a steady fast-paced rhythm. Dean's hole clinched so tight around Cas's throbbing member, coaxing it quickly toward the finish. Dean, himself, was palming at his own organ flicking around between them, still grunting and moaning like a beast. His free palm was pushing on Castiel's shoulder angrily as if he was still trying to gain the upper hand in their sexual battle. It was quite humorous that Dean thought he could over-power an angel. Perhaps Dean needed to be reminded of his place...

As Cas's hips increased speed, he carefully allowed his celestial form to shine through his vessel. The broken remains of the hotel furniture began to quake around the room in the angel's threatening presence. Dean, too, became aware of Castiel's true form. His pushing hand paused on the angel's shoulder and his green eyes widened in shock as Cas gently opened his wings. The angel's glow caused the sweat on Dean's face to shimmer in the holy light and Castiel could see the arousal blooming full-scale in the man's expression. His hips were suddenly rocking hard with Cas's and his growls were morphing into erotic cries. His fist was sliding furiously along his organ as Castiel shoved hard into him. It made the angel feel smug to know that just a tiny fraction of his grace could impress Dean so profoundly. The man was on the very edge of ejaculating with just the sight of Cas's wings alone...

Feeling his own orgasm beginning to crest, Castiel picked up a last burst of energy, using it to rock so hard into Dean that the room was filled with the sound of their bodies smacking together. Dean's back was arching and his free hand was clinging to Cas's coat collar when he finally spilled over the edge. Castiel groaned at the sight of semen splattering up the man's ripped dark shirt as Dean came with a sudden burst. His eyes were squinted shut as grunts and moans fought to escape his open mouth. Once Dean climaxed, Castiel allowed himself to do the same. His organ began to pulse inside the man's warm body, filling Dean with semen as pleasure clouded his mind. Oh, it was so heavenly; both the physical bliss taking hold of the angel and the subconscious knowledge that Dean was being filled with Castiel's seed. The act was almost overwhelming...

Once his organ grew acutely sensitive, Castiel slowed his hips to a stop. He blinked lazily down at the quivering man underneath him as his grace carefully retreated back inside his vessel. The large wings folded inward toward his back and his glow fizzled out, leaving Cas to tremble from the aftermath of orgasm. Now that it was turning soft, Castiel cautiously pulled his organ from Dean's raw opening. The man winced at the sensation. His emerald eyes were only half open and he seemed utterly drained of all energy. His semen-covered torso was still heaving with his rapid breath, but his angered demeanor appeared to have faded. Did the rough intercourse help him overcome his rage? Was his orgasm effective in halting his animalistic outburst?

After Castiel's wilting erection was gone from Dean's body, the man forced himself to roll onto his side. He was facing away from the angel then, staring blankly across the room as he lay quivering on the floor. Castiel swallowed harshly while eying the back of Dean's torn shirt. He could only imagine which heavy thoughts were passing through the man's plagued mind. Perhaps he was thinking of the Impala again, unable to escape the memory of its shattered body. Or, perhaps, he was attempting to plot revenge on the archangel responsible for the destruction. Either way, Dean was currently lost to his thoughts. Eyes vacant and body unmoving. And it didn't look like he was in the mood for speaking.

Castiel took a breath, before lowering himself into the floor behind Dean. The angel pressed firmly at the man's back and slid an affectionate arm around his torso, cupping him into a warm embrace. It was okay if Dean didn't want to speak in that moment. Castiel was going to be there for him whenever he was ready to talk. The angel pressed a gentle kiss against the back of Dean's neck as he caressed the man's chest with the edge of his thumb. Their intercourse may have mimicked a fight, but their love was stronger than ever.

* * *

Dean was still trying to catch his breath when he felt Cas's arm sliding around him. They were both laying on the carpeted floor now, apparently spooning. Dean never thought he would ever be the 'little spoon' in a relationship, but there he was with Cas pressed to his back. Actually, it felt kind of nice to be the little spoon. It felt like he was being protected or something. Dean reached up to press the angel's soft hand harder against the center of his chest, where his heart was still pounding. He thought that having sex with Cas might calm him down and help him forget about the shit that had just happened. And, boy, was he right. He couldn't even remember his own name there for a second...

But the silence seemed to stretch on between them and the absence of sound eventually drove Dean back to the thoughts that pissed him off in the first place. Oh, dammit, that's right. The Impala was still ruined. That sneaky, pompous, arrogant, conniving little bastard that Sam loved so much had completely totaled his freakin' car. Dean's eyes narrowed on the door across the room as he felt his rage swelling back up. He couldn't help but think about that stupid play again – about how Tybalt killed Romeo's best friend. That's what Gabriel had done. He had killed Dean's car. And no one blamed Romeo for wanting to kill that Tybalt bastard after that, did they? Hell no. Everyone knew that prick needed to be taken care of...

Cas's warm wet lips were suddenly pressed to the back of Dean's neck.

Chills raced up Dean's spine as he felt Cas kissing him softly. The man's anger was suddenly being infiltrated by guilt. What would Cas do if Dean took up Romeo's sword and slayed Gabriel? Sammy freaking out would be one thing – the kid would probably go off on a bitching-spree and refuse to talk to Dean for a while, but he would eventually get over it. They had fought over shit like this before and still came back to each other – but Cas? What if it broke his heart? What if he _left_?

“Cas,” Dean blurted.

His voice was a little hoarse from all the growling and moaning, but the angel still heard him. Cas's arm tightened around him instantly and his gentle voice was humming right behind Dean's ear.

“Yes, Dean?” he asked.

Dean took a second to get his words right. He didn't want to come out with, ' _Hey, what would you do if I shoved an angel blade up your brother's ass?_ ' He knew he needed to put it in a way that wasn't so obvious. Maybe mask it with a personal question.

“How – how do you feel about Gabriel?” Dean said carefully.

There was a moment of silence in which Cas's caressing hand slowed to a stop against Dean's chest. The angel took a deep breath against the back of the man's neck; not an annoyed sigh, but more of a breath of deliberation. Dean waited patiently, hoping that Cas didn't realize that he was gathering information to make a decision on killing someone...

“He is my brother, Dean,” Cas whispered at Dean's ear, the hot breath making goosebumps rise on the man's skin, “I would assume that I feel the same way about him as you feel about Sam.”

Dean blinked toward the door, feeling strange. Dean loved his little brother probably more than he needed to. That kid was closer to him than anyone else on the planet. They had literally been through hell together; through grief, and fear, and death, and whatever-the-hell-else the world had to throw at them. Sam was more than just a brother to Dean. He was Dean's entire family rolled into one gigantic man. Cas couldn't have felt that way about Gabriel, could he? They never saw each other that much. They couldn't share the same the bond that Dean and Sam did. There was no way.

“What makes you say that?” Dean asked, secretly hoping for an explanation.

Cas's fingertips trailed along Dean's collar bone, slipping down the groove between his pectoral muscles.

“Sam is your brother, much like Gabriel is mine,” the angel replied, “It was not by _our_ choice that we are related, but by our _father's_.”

“Yeah, but you don't have to like it,” Dean mumbled, feeling a little bitter.

So what, Cas and Gabriel were related? The trickster picked on everyone the same, including his own kin. He obviously didn't value Cas the same way Cas valued him, but that didn't seem to matter to the angel hugging Dean's back. He seemed to have figured out what Dean was trying to hint at.

“I know Gabriel can be a difficult person to love,” Cas admitted, using a gentle tone, “but once you are able to get passed his mask of childish philandering and cloak of deflecting lies, you'll see that Gabriel is more _human_ than any other archangel in existence.”

Dean resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Human? Yeah, right. That guy loved showing off his stupid angelic powers...

“But, more than that,” Cas went on, sounding more honest than ever, “I care for him because we are _family_. I know how much you value that word, Dean, and it means just as much to me as it does to you. Gabriel and I have a long-standing history between us, dating back to the dawn of time. We've been through so much together, that it's hard to imagine what I would have done without him. And, to be honest, I feel that he is the last true family member that I have left.”

The twinge of sadness in Cas's voice made Dean's heart ache. Tears were suddenly pressing at the back of the man's eyes as he tightened his hand around Cas's. Wow. He had not thought about that before, about Gabriel being the last angel alive that would really have Cas's back. The notion made Dean feel a little sick, actually. How dare those freakin' angels turn Cas into an outcast. No wonder the guy considered Gabriel to be his last family member. Gabriel was an outcast, too.

“Well,” Cas piped up, sounding a bit chipper, “apart from you and Sam, that is.”

Dean blinked. What was Cas talking about?

“Me and Sam?” he asked.

“Yes. Apart from you and Sam, Gabriel is my last family member. We _are_ family, right Dean?” the angel asked, sounding like he was smiling.

The moisture built up in Dean's eyes finally burst free, causing a tear to slide diagonally cross his face. Why did it hurt so damn much to hear Cas say that? Ugh, it just wasn't right to consider Cas part of his family. The angel didn't know how dangerous it was to be so close to Dean and Sam. He didn't know about all the pain, and heartbreak, and total _bullshit_ that came along with being part of Dean's family. He didn't know what kind of curse it truly was to bear the name 'Winchester.' The guy might as well start writing out his own death certificate with a statement like that...

But Dean didn't want to quash the angel's happiness. Not when Cas sounded so damn happy to say it out loud. The man tried to blink away the rest of his tears as he knitted his fingers in between Cas's. He took a deep breath, trying to figure out what to say.

“Yeah... Family... ” Dean finally mumbled, hoping to God that Cas would see what a mistake it was.

The angel pressed another kiss to the back of Dean's neck, softer and sweeter than the first time. Dean felt like shit. He didn't deserve sweet kisses. He didn't deserve to be congratulated on a job well done or to be told that he was worth loving. He didn't deserve _Cas_...

But Dean tugged the angel's arm tighter around him anyway as his eyes flickered shut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know about you guys, but whenever I get really mad/upset/pissed/angry, I wish that a blue-eyed angel would swoop down from heaven and calm me down with his dominance too. ;D Again, I'm really sorry for all the angst. But I promise it's almost over. Good things are on the way. I promise. <3 Thank you all so much for continuing to read! I swear you are my favorite people! :) The next chapter will be out soon! <3


	6. Chapter 6

_Dean could feel something warm and wet dripping onto his forehead. The man knew he was laying in bed, curled up in the sheets trying to sleep. And that dripping stuff was coming from above him. Was the roof leaking? Was Sam splashing him with something?_

_Another droplet of liquid fell and slid across Dean's cheek as he shifted in bed. What the hell was that shit? Too annoyed to sleep anymore, Dean forced his eyes open to see what had bothered him to the point of waking up. He was expecting to see Sam leaning over the bed with a bottle of whiskey, or maybe a wet spot on the ceiling where rain water might be leaking through._

_The first thing he saw instead were Cas's giant blue eyes._

_They were parallel with Dean's, hovering high above him. The huge sapphire orbs were wide and glistening, brimming with hot tears. Dean blinked up at Cas as he rolled onto his back to see the angel properly. Why was Cas crying? Did something happen while Dean was asleep? Dean couldn't think of a single time he had ever witnessed Cas cry before. And God, the sight was so terrible. Cas's cheeks and nose all red and puffy with utter grief clear in his eyes. A twinge of anger accompanied Dean's worry. Whoever the hell made his angel cry had better start running now if they wanted to live. Dean could feel his trigger hand itching for a gun._

“ _Cas?” Dean asked._

_He wanted to know what was going on and why Cas was upset. But the angel didn't reply. His mouth opened a little, but no sound came out. His eyes – God, those perfect ocean eyes – seemed to widen even more as another warm tear fell to splash against the man's face. Why wouldn't Cas talk? And why was he so high above Dean, way up there near the ceiling? Geez, he looked almost flat against the surface, pinned up there with his limbs stretched out. The sight looked... eerily familiar..._

“ _Cas?” Dean said again, feeling so confused, “What are you doing?”_

_Before the angel could even speak, a burst of flames erupted from his back. The entire ceiling was suddenly engulfed in fire, burning with enough intensity to heat the whole room. The flames seemed to stretch to every wall, scorching the entire surface in a sea of destruction. And at the center of this searing fireball was Cas. The dude was stuck in the middle of it like he couldn't move. The fire was already beginning to burn the whipping hem of his trench coat – and parts of his soft, dark hair._

_Dean instantly tossed off the bed sheets and scrambled on top of the mattress, feeling his heart start to race with horror. He climbed to his feet to start jumping on the bed to try to reach the angel. He had to get Cas down from there! He couldn't let Cas burn! Why the hell wasn't the angel flying away?! Why was he trapped in the fire?!_

“ _Cas!” the man yelled, stretching out both hands._

_Dean was trying his damnedest to reach Cas, grasping and jumping with everything he had. But the ceiling was too far away. The fire was inching across the front of Cas's coat now, burning through the fabric all the way down to his olive skin. Tears were still falling from Cas's precious blue eyes, making the orbs glistening with the fiery glow surrounding him. And Dean was panicking; jumping and panting and screaming Cas's name. No, dammit, this couldn't be happening! This was the same fire that had taken his mom! It couldn't be happening_ again _! Not to_ Cas _! God, no! Not him! not the best damn thing Dean ever had!_

“ _Cas! Please!” Dean begged in a hoarse and raspy voice, feeling as helpless as a child, “Give me your hand, dammit! Now!”_

_But Cas couldn't do it. He was stuck, burning alive on the ceiling, unable to move. And Dean couldn't do a damn thing but watch as the flames quickly ate away at the angel's clothes and skin and hair. The only part of Cas left untouched were his blue eyes, swollen with guilt and grief, still dripping with tears. God, he looked so innocent and scared. Dean was screaming at him with every breath, begging and crying the angel's name as if it would save him. Cas was dying. Just like Dean's mother and father and everyone else, Cas was leaving Dean's life in the blink of an eye. Being ripped from him without warning._

_And he was utterly useless to stop it._

“Dean.”

A hand pulled Dean from his nightmare like a hook reeling a fish up from the depths of deep water. The man gasped for breath and clawed himself awake, forcing his eyes open and bolting to sit up. The hotel room was full of natural sunlight glowing warmly against the white walls and the fluffy bed. Dean's eyes instantly snapped toward the ceiling, where the morning sun rays were stretching across the flat surface. What happened to the fire? Where did Cas go? Was the angel still crying? Was he still _burning_?

“Cas?!” Dean croaked, quickly scanning the room with fear.

“I'm here, Dean.”

Dean gasped out loud at the sound of Cas's angelic voice. The man spun around in bed to face the direction it came from – and caught sight of Cas's beautiful face. The angel's eyes were clear and bright, holding a hint of concern, but thankfully no tears. His face looked so damn soft in the morning light, skin warm and tight, lips pink and full. He looked absolutely perfect. No burns or scars or flaws. He was completely unharmed and as beautiful as ever. He was still Cas. And he was still _here_.

Moisture was swelling up in Dean's eyes as he suddenly threw himself at the angel. The swift force was enough to tackle Cas flat against the bed and Dean's big arms closed around him. Dean was blinking away tears and trying to make himself calm down while he took several harsh breaths of the angel's sweet scent. Shit. Forget the damn Impala being crushed. That stupid nightmare was the worst thing Dean could ever imagine happening. All that demonic fire burning Cas's skin – the same soft skin he was currently touching with his own – was a horrific thought. Dean couldn't shake the image out of his head. Ugh, why would he dream something like that?

As Cas's strong arms circled around his bare back and hugged him close, Dean felt he knew the answer to his subconscious question. It scared the absolute shit out of him to even think about it this way – but maybe the dream was a premonition. It was the fate that surely awaited Cas if he wanted to be included in Dean's family. Because to be part of Dean's family meant _dying_ in it, too. The angel needed to take a hint from what happened to Dean's parents and realize that it wasn't a good idea to be with a man whose only true talent was getting people killed.

But, even as he thought this, Dean hugged Cas tighter than ever. If the unthinkable happened – if Cas died horribly, if he left and never came back – Dean's whole damn world would stop turning. Dean couldn't even bare to imagine a life in which Cas's deep voice didn't exist anymore, or his tender lips, or his precious eyes. The damn sun would burn out! The stars would fall out of the freakin' sky! Cas was the glue that held the broken shards of Dean together – and if he was _gone_ , Dean would completely fall apart. What was Dean without Cas? What was Romeo without Juliet?

Dean was suddenly stamping hard and fast kisses all over Cas's bare shoulder, clinging desperately to the angel while a single hot tear streamed down his cheek. He was feeling a mix of overwhelming relief and utter heartbreak. Thank God, Cas's heart was still beating against Dean's chest. Shit, that dream felt so damn real...

“Dean?” Cas said again, his hallowed deep voice vibrating against Dean's shoulder, “What's the matter? You're trembling.”

The man barely comprehended the angel's words. As soon as the angel spoke, Dean's lips suddenly leaped to smash against Cas's mouth, muting him with an urgent kiss. The taste was sweeter than ever. Maybe Dean _was_ trembling, because his teeth seemed to rattle a little against Cas's. But the man couldn't stop it. His body was just displaying what he was really feeling, which was the after-shock of terror. He never wanted to see Cas leave his life, especially not the same way his mother left. Even one ceiling fire was just too many.

“Speak to me, Dean,” Cas pleaded, backing out of the frantic kiss to search Dean's face with worry, “Tell me what's wrong.”

Dean took the time to look into the giant sapphires of Cas's eyes, letting the solemn color calm his jittery nerves while he located his own voice.

“I – I had a freakin' nightmare,” the man huffed, running his fingers quickly through Cas's dark hair, “D – didn't you see it?”

Dean knew that, for some odd reason, Cas had been keeping tabs on his dreams. Maybe the angel took a peek inside Dean's head when he was bored at night or something. But Cas's head shook slightly when the question was asked and he appeared a little apologetic.

“I'm sorry, Dean. I was busy restoring our room to its original state,” the angel answered.

Dean gulped. It figured that Cas had no problem pulling up a seat and some popcorn when Dean was having a wet dream, but the _one time_ the man had an actual nightmare, the angel was too busy house-keeping to even notice. But it was probably for the best. Who would want to see themselves burning on a ceiling in the dreams of the person they loved the most?

Dean's hand raked shakily through Cas's soft hair again as he took a brief look around. All the furniture that Dean kicked and punched the night before was repaired and back in order, and the window was finally fixed. Beautiful sunlight as cascading through the crystal pane, illuminating the floating dust in the room. The angel's soft hands took hold of Dean's face and turn it back toward him. Dean stared at the concerned blue eyes and pursed lips of worry before him and swallowed again. Cas looked so damn anxious all the sudden, like he was trying to figure out how to console a baby that had just fallen out of its crib.

“What did you dream of?” he asked, edging his thumb against Dean's cheekbone, “Perhaps I can comfort you, Dean. What sort of vision disturbed you?”

The fire was suddenly burning on the ceiling in Dean's mind again, consuming Cas's whole body in its demonic heat. The man could see it clearly; almost able to smell the scent of burning fabric. Dean blinked himself out of the thought and forced himself to focus on Cas's eyes. No. He wasn't going to let that nightmare keep playing in his head like a damn song stuck on repeat. And he didn't want to tell Cas about it, either. It was too much, too dramatic. The angel didn't need to worry about something that could be avoided. Besides, saying it out loud might jinx it... and make it come true...

“N – nothing,” Dean panted, feeling his heart begin to settle down, “It... it was just a stupid dream. I'm okay, now.”

Cas looked rightfully skeptical for a moment, carefully studying Dean's face for the truth. But Dean was set on not talking about it. It had been bad enough to even think about, let alone strike up a conversation.

“I just want to forget about it,” Dean added truthfully, aware of Cas's worry.

The angel gave a slight nod and seemed to acknowledge Dean's statement. But his eyes flickered toward the side of the room. His body was shifting under Dean's too, gently sliding toward the edge of the bed.

“In that case,” Cas said, pulling Dean along, “I think there is something you should see.”

Dean could feel his own eyebrows drawing together as he stood up from the bed with Cas. Something he should see? Oh God, was it something bad? After that dream, Dean didn't think he could handle anymore bad things this morning. Even though he was hesitant, Dean let Cas take his hand and lead him to the window across the warm room. The man had to blink against the harsh morning light as he and Cas stopped at the gorgeous view beyond the glass.

“What is it, Cas?” Dean asked, squinting in the bright sun toward the angel at his side.

Cas pointed out the window and downward at the parking lot. It took Dean's weary eyes a second to focus on the dark asphalt and yellow lines to see exactly where Cas's finger was pointing. But he eventually spotted it – the Impala. All shiny and fixed, looking almost fresh off the assembly line. There was even a ridiculously huge red bow on the roof. A giant smile burst across Dean's lips at the sight of his repaired car. Aw, it was sweet of Cas to fix the Impala after some asshole had ruined it. Was there anything the angel wouldn't do for him?

“Thanks, Cas. You didn't have to do that,” Dean breathed, turning to grin at the angel, “The bow is a bit much, but...”

The man's sentence trailed off when he watched Cas's head slowly beginning to shake. His blue eyes held a mix of confusion and worry as he placed a gentle hand on Dean's shoulder.

“I did not do it, Dean,” he stated shallowly.

Dean blinked in the warm sunlight. Wait, Cas didn't fix it? Well then, who did? Who else had the means – and genuine desire – to fix the Impala? The man's eyes dropped back down to the vehicle far below the window, where the red bow glistened in the sun. Sam couldn't have done it, not over night. And even if he did, Sammy wouldn't have put that stupid bow on top. No, there was only one person that would do something over-the-top and stupid like that. Only one person capable of mending a broken car with the snap of his tiny fingers...

“Gabriel,” Dean spat.

Cas sighed heavily next to Dean and forced a nod.

“I believe he repaired it sometime during the night,” the angel informed, “Only after going to retrieve the Impala myself did I find that it was placed here.”

“Shit,” Dean blurted urgently, tugging at Cas's hand, “Come on, let's get dressed. I wanna know what the hell he did to it.”

After quickly tossing on some clothes – that Dean noticed were beginning to smell a little musty, making him realize that they needed to hit up a laundromat soon – Cas flew him down to the parking lot. It was surprisingly warm outside and a tad breezy. The giant bow on top of the Impala swayed around a bit in the light wind and it made the whole car look disgustingly _cute_. Ugh, that was never a word Dean wanted to have in connection with his car. No, the Impala was a freakin' warhorse. Not some archangel's barbie doll.

Cas carefully strolled closer to the car and his eyes squinted with suspicion. Dean watched the hem of the angel's long coat whip around in the wind for a second – briefly recognizing that it was whipping around the same way it did, on fire, in his dream – before forcing his own sight to the car. Gabriel had done something to it for sure, Dean could feel it in his gut. The asshole probably rigged it to fall apart if Dean got in, or make it explode into confetti, or worse – he might have stuck a damn Backstreet Boys CD in the stereo.

“What did he do to it, Cas?” Dean asked, noticing that the angel was inspecting the outside.

The angel softly laid his hand on the hood and fastened his eyes to the sleek metal, as if he was feeling it with celestial energy. Cas was touching the Impala the same way he always touched Dean, gently and affectionately, being careful not to hurt it. Dean secretly enjoyed watching the angel handle his car that way, like he was touching his lover's body. Was it right to find the interaction so damn sexy? Cas eventually lifted his hand and turned back to Dean and he seemed slightly surprised.

“I can't detect any foul play,” the angel stated, “The Impala seems to be completely restored, Dean. The exact way you had it.”

Dean scoffed. There was no way Gabriel would really fix the Impala after what he did to it... right? The man stepped toward the car for himself, peering along the body and inside the windows. It looked like Cas was right. No blow-up dolls in the backseat, no dogs roaming in the front seat, no obscene messages written on the windows. The Impala looked... fairly normal. Why would Gabriel fix the car? Maybe Sam strong-armed him into it...

As Dean glanced along the dashboard, something shiny caught his eye. There was a box sitting in the front seat. It was a gift, from the looks of the colorful wrapping paper and sliver ribbons. Dean's eyes narrowed at the rectangular box. Ha! So there _was_ something fishy about the car being fixed. Something bad was in that box, Dean could feel it. Maybe a severed head,or a picture of Gabe and Sam kissing.

“Allow me, Dean,” Cas whispered, reaching for the door.

Apparently, the angel had spotted the box too. Dean let Cas opened the door and pick it up, anxious to see what the hell was in it. The both of them were careful with it, treating the box like it was an activated bomb. The angel laid the 'gift' on the hood and ripped the tag off the top. Dean leaned close to him, to read -

_To the man that has everything – including my little brother. Hope these can serve as an apology gift. No hard feelings, eh? Mazel tov! – Gabe_

Dean couldn't help but glare at the script. _Nothing_ could fit in that tiny box that was worthy enough to be an apology after all the shit that archangel had put Dean and Sam through. Even if it was a million bucks. Cas reached out and pressed his hand flat against Dean's chest, pushing him away gently. The man gave the angel a strange look.

“Please stand back, Dean,” Cas requested, as he picked up the box, “Just in case.”

Dean gulped and gave a nod. He really hoped that whatever was in there wouldn't hurt Cas. The man watched the angel carefully tug away the ribbon and pluck the tape free from the sides. After clearing all the wrapping paper, Cas took the lid between his fingers and hesitantly lifted it up. Dean was watching when Cas peered down inside the half-inch gap. Whatever was lurking inside caused Cas's blue eyes to widened and his cheeks to turn an awkward shade of red. The angel snapped the box shut instantly, jolting his head up to meet Dean's stare. Embarrassment was clear in his face. What was in the damn box?!

“What? What is it?” Dean asked, stepping closer.

Cas stepped closer too, close enough to hide the box between them. The angel's eyes were glancing around the parking lot with paranoia, as if he was afraid someone might see. But he lifted the lid anyway and gave Dean a clear view of what was inside. A couple pairs of panties were suddenly staring Dean in the face. The man gulped and briefly copied Cas in looking around before pulling the box up to inspect the contents better. Yep. It was feminine underwear, alright. Two pair in a uniform row. One strongly resembled the same pair the stupid dog had ruined, Dean's original pink satin panties. The second, however, was a thong made of jet-black shimmering lace. Oh, man, were those meant for _Cas_? Dean couldn't deny that it would be such an amazing sight; Cas strolling around their hotel room in nothing but a black thong, barking orders in that stern tone that never failed to send shivers down Dean's spine...

“Perhaps Gabriel is attempting to make amends, Dean.”

Dean blinked himself out of his hot daydream to look up at Cas. The angel seemed a little hopeful all of the sudden. His hand was resting softly on Dean's arm as he glanced between the present and the man's face, happy that his brother seemed to be changing. But the notion made Dean feel ill. The trickster never made amends, did he? Dean wasn't exactly sure why Gabriel would fix the Impala and replace his underwear, but it sure as hell wasn't to say sorry. The man closed the lid on the box and tossed it back in the front seat.

“Let's go ask him,” Dean suggested bluntly.

Confrontation was the best way to deal with any issue. That was Dean's theory, at least. Meeting things head-on was commonplace for him and interrogating Gabriel would be no different. But Cas seemed hesitant. His heavenly blue eyes searched Dean's face and his lips pursed briefly together. Dean couldn't help but think about Juliet again, about how this might be the same look she would wear if Romeo told her about confronting Tybalt.

“Please don't attack him, Dean,” Cas asked softly, being more persuasive than he probably knew, “Don't allow last night to repeat itself.”

Dean gave a firm nod and took Cas's hand with confidence.

“I won't,” he promised.

* * *

Castiel walked steadily next to Dean as they made their way inside the hotel lobby. A strange tightening had begun in his stomach. It was similar to the feeling he acquired long ago when he was on the eve of battle and about to face-off against an enemy without any knowledge of the outcome. In some ways, this situation did remind Castiel of war; brothers caught in a meaningless quarrel, ultimately fighting over nothing. It was foolish for Dean and Gabriel to bicker in such a way... but, even as he thought this, Castiel twined his fingers tightly between Dean's and kept his stride. The angel still loved the man with his entire being, foolish quarrel or no.

Inside the dining area – which had somehow morphed into the Winchester's common meeting place – Sam and Gabriel were seated at a square table in the middle of the room. Castiel could see that both of them appeared jovial, giggling and smiling at one another as if they were unaware of anyone else in the room. The sight of their happiness secretly delighted Castiel. How long had it been since a genuine smile graced Sam Winchester's face? Or Gabriel's? It seemed Sam had forgiven archangel through the night. Castiel took a breath and looked beside him at Dean's stern face. If only everyone was so compassionate...

Sam and Gabriel both looked up at Dean and Cas as the pair stopped near the table. The smiles on their faces seemed to dim a bit when they both eyed Dean. Castiel, too, joined them in looking at the brooding man. Dean appeared to be shifting his lower jaw back and forth, chewing on the words he was about to speak. Castiel gave the man's hand a supportive squeeze. It was okay if he wanted to speak. Cas would stand at his side, no matter what he said. Gabriel, however, stole his opportunity.

“Good morning, love birds,” the archangel beamed, “I take it you've already scoped out the new and improved spank-mobile? I added a couple of new guns to the trunk too, in case you didn't look. High-grade military stuff. No big deal -”

“Why?” Dean spat.

Gabriel's tone had been friendly and light, but Dean's was flat and heavy. Castiel could see the warmth dim a bit on the archangel's face, as if he had expected Dean to receive him with gratitude. Sam glanced between the two of them before giving Dean a stern look.

“Does it matter?” the younger Winchester asked coolly, “It's fixed, now. Can we move on?”

Castiel could see the fire light up in Dean's eyes at Sam's statement. The man's hand tensed around the angel's and he opened his mouth to speak – but a waitress suddenly walked up to the group. An awkward silence settled among the men while she gingerly placed four plates of food on the table. Their eyes remained fixed on another during her visit, staring hard. Castiel could practically feel a chill in the air from Dean and Sam's cold glance. After bidding everyone a lovely day, the waitress smiled graciously and retreated, leaving the men and angels alone once again. Dean broke his stare with Sam to drop his eyes to the table.

“Four?” he asked in a bland tone, referring to the plates.

“Yep. I took the liberty of ordering for you and baby duck. Steak and bacon, just the way you like it,” Gabriel mused, digging into his own large plate of pudding and pastry.

Castiel couldn't help but notice Sam beaming at Gabriel with pride. Cas, too, felt a bit pleased with the archangel's thoughtfulness. It was only on rare instances that Gabriel took others' well-being into consideration. Again, Castiel felt Sam had a large part to play in the archangel's change of demeanor. But, as much as Sam and Castiel were impressed, Dean's eyes remained narrowed.

“Look, Goldilocks, I don't know why you're trying to play 'good guy' all of the sudden, but you can stop with the ass kissing. That shit doesn't work on me,” Dean informed.

Gabriel's mouth lunged open but slowly closed. It seemed as though he was prevented himself from saying something, holding back words. The archangel took a small bite of his pudding instead. Castiel felt terrible then, watching his angelic brother act so discouraged. Gabriel seemed to be genuinely trying his best to remain peaceful. Perhaps Dean was being a bit harsh...

“Dean,” Castiel said quietly, “He's trying to be -”

“I don't give a shit what he's trying to be,” Dean interrupted, keeping his eyes fixed on Gabriel.

Sam suddenly spun in his seat to face Dean, placing a hard fist on the table. The happiness that had been evident on the younger Winchester's face was gone now, replaced with anger and protectiveness.

“Lay off him, Dean,” he demanded, shoulders tense, “Gabe made up for what he did and he's being civil. You need to grow up and do the same. Stop being a dick.”

Dean's jaw was dangling from his mouth, gaping down at his brother in total shock. Castiel could feel the tension growing between them as they stared each other down. Oh, no. Was one of Cas's fears coming to premonition? Were the Winchesters being driven apart? Castiel tried to tug on Dean's hand again in an attempt to pull him from the angered trance he was stuck in, but it was no use. A fight was about to break out whether Cas wanted it or not. The angel could feel it.

“You're actually gonna defend the guy that broke our car, Sam?” Dean asked.

“No. I'm defending the guy that fixed it,” Sam corrected, causing a look of awe to cross Gabriel's face, “Now, you can sit down and have a nice brunch with us and we can pretend to be a normal family, or you can take a freakin' hike, Dean. Your choice.”

There was no mistaking the look of utter fear and panic that crossed Dean's face the instant Sam mentioned the word 'family.' It was so profound that Castiel almost had the urge to comfort the man immediately, even without knowing the cause of his distress. What was it about the word 'family' that made Dean so upset? Was it the thought of Gabriel being considered part of it that disturbed him? Or was it something rooted much deeper than that? Dean's hand released Castiel's at once as he leaned down toward the table.

“ _They_ are _not_ part of our family, Sam,” the man stated, his face pale, “Stop trying to include them in it.”

Castiel did not miss that Dean had used the word 'they.' A powerful aching sensation seemed to grow in the angel's chest, so painful that he had to place his hand against his own breastbone. Castiel knew that Dean didn't want Gabriel to be part of his family – but did Dean not want _Cas_ to be part of it, either? Family was such an important principal to Dean. Was their intimate relationship not as important? As Castiel attempted to deal with his sudden heartache, he noticed Sam flick a piece of salad at Dean.

“Make me,” the younger brother challenged, arching an eyebrow.

Dean scooped up a handful of mashed potatoes from the plate in front of him and slapped it across Sam's torso. The younger brother gasped in surprise, looking down at his ruined attire.

“I will,” Dean retorted.

“Hey!” Gabriel shouted, springing to his feet, “ _I'm_ the only one who gets to throw food at the moose! Suck it, Pinky!”

The archangel grabbed up his entire plate and hurled it toward Dean, but the man swiftly ducked out of its path – causing the pudding and pastry to splat onto the child walking behind him. Pudding was dripping from the back of the young boy's head as he spun to glare at Gabriel with an open mouth. The archangel's face reddened and he seemed a tad embarrassed.

“Um... Oops?” Gabriel offered.

The child grabbed up the sandwich from his own plate and flung it in Gabriel's direction, smacking the archangel with bread and sliced tomatoes. Sam was also throwing food again, bombarding Dean with orange slices. Dean retaliated with the bacon from his plate, tossing it at both Sam and Gabriel. The archangel was still receiving food from the child and others – they appeared to be some form of teammates, by the looks of their matching numbered uniforms – incorporating more people into this catastrophic argument.

Castiel took a step back from the ciaos, watching food fly back and forth across the room. This was utter nonsense. How was he supposed to put a stop to this foolish fight? Castiel didn't have the power to calm the entire room. The only angel capable of doing that was currently spraying soda toward Dean. Perhaps some other force needed to intervene. Perhaps a familiar face would draw Dean and Sam out of their childish ways.

With the flap of his wings, Castiel flew himself to Bobby Singer's house and landing amidst the man's study. It was quite and calm here, a much different contrast to the place Castiel had just come from. Bobby himself was already in the room. The man was kneeling near the floor, appearing to be painting something on the rug. The angel briefly glanced around and noticed a bowl of blood and an open book on the desk. Was Bobby in the middle of performing a spell? Was he attempting to summon something? Why would he do something like that inside his own house?

Castiel shook himself from his curiosity. This was not the time to pry on Bobby Singer's personal business. Right now, Castiel needed a voice of reason.

“Hello, Bobby,” the angel said quietly.

A sharp gasp came from the man on the floor. The brush and cup of paint fell from his hands to clank on the hardwood as he spun around to look up at Castiel. Under the bill of his worn hat, Bobby's face appeared to redden as if he had been caught doing something inappropriate.

“Dammit, Cas!” he growled, scrambling to his feet, “How many times do I have to tell you?! This house has a front door for a reason! ' _Behold, I stand at the door and knock._ ' Ain't you ever read that verse before, son?! For the love of God!”

While he rattled off profanities, Bobby was shooing Castiel toward the kitchen, quickly pushing him out of the study. The angel glanced back toward the floor – just long enough to see that the man was in the process of painting a devil's trap on the rug – before complying with Bobby's demanding shove. They stumbled into the kitchen and Cas could see the heat on the man's face.

“There better be a damn good reason for you bargin' in here again, Cas,” Bobby snipped, his bearded cheeks glowing red, “You're lucky I was wearin' pants this time.”

“It's – it's Dean and Sam,” Castiel forced himself to say, still feeling the sting of Dean's words in his heart, “They are fighting about Gabriel.”

“Who?” Bobby interrupted, appearing lost.

“My brother,” Castiel informed, “Look, Bobby, there is no time to explain. They are literally fighting as we speak. I need you to talk to them and make them sort out their differences. This argument is foolish and unnecessary. Please, Bobby, I -” the angel paused to swallow his grief, “... I need Dean.”

The older man sighed gruffly, stealing a quick glance back at the archway of the study. He seemed to be deliberating, briefly running a hand over his aged forehead and pursing his lips together. But he eventually shook his head with defeat.

“Balls,” he grumbled, “Alright, fine. I'll give 'em a talkin' to. Let's just make it quick.”

Castiel took a breath of relief as he reached out for Bobby's shoulder. The angel quickly flew the man to the dining area of the White Swan Hotel, where food was still flying through the air. It appeared that everyone in the room was in the fight now, adults and children alike. The floor and walls were doused in all manor of substances, as were all of the people. Castiel spotted Dean hiding behind a chair, tossing grapes toward Sam and Gabriel, who were barricaded behind a table.

Bobby appeared astounded by the scene. He took a step toward Dean and Sam, ducking to avoid being hit by a stray pancake. Castiel followed him, using his arm to somewhat shield Bobby from the edible debris. As the two of them stepped toward Dean and Sam's battle ground, Cas caught sight of Gabriel standing up from beyond the table. The archangel was holding a massive three-tier cake over his head, complete with pink icing and lit birthday candles. Castiel's mouth fell open. Where did Gabriel find such a large pastry?

“Hey, Dean-a-ling!” the archangel cried, “Make a wish!”

Before Castiel had time to react, the pink cake was flying through the air. Dean, of course, was its original target – but the huge pastry came crashing down on Bobby Singer, instead. The cake splatted on his head and shoulders, engulfing him in pink icing and crumbling confection. The entire room seemed to pause and silence fell over the area, as if everyone knew Gabriel had taken a step over the line. Dean and Sam both popped their heads up from beyond their trenches to see Bobby and their faces grew pale. Gabriel visibly gulped and eyed Bobby's pink form in surprise.

“Uh... M – my bad,” the archangel said nervously, giving a single high-pitched laugh.

Bobby growled as he shook the pastry from his body and furiously wiped the pink icing from his face. He turned to point a stern finger at Dean.

“ _You_ ,” he barked, before turning to point the same finger at Sam, “and _you_.”

The Winchester brothers glanced nervously toward each other before looking at Bobby again.

“My place,” Bobby concluded, bending his finger to point toward the floor with conviction, “ _Now_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the record, I love the Backstreet Boys. But I figured that Dean might not care for them too much. lol. :) I'm sorry for the feelsy nightmare that Dean had at the beginning, but it's gonna help him get through his current dilemma about family. Eventually. ;) I really hope you guys enjoyed the food fight as well! And as for what Bobby was doing at his house... I guess we'll just have to wait and see. ;D Thank you guys so much for reading and commenting! I'm so glad to hear that you all like it! :D The next chapter will be out soon! <3


	7. Chapter 7

“I hope you're happy, Sam. Seriously. I hope you're on cloud freakin' nine,” Dean snapped in his little brother's general direction as he tried to shake the grated cheese out of his clothes, “I'm gonna smell like egg salad for a whole damn week.”

“Good,” Sam rebutted, shooting Dean a scowl as he tried to pick the cereal out of his wet stringy hair, “Now you smell as bad as your attitude. You know, Dean, if you would have just sat down at the stupid table, we wouldn't look like a bunch of back-alley dumpsters right now.”

“You know what? Screw you, Sammy. Ugh, you got pickle juice in my eyes, dammit,” Dean complained in retaliation, trying to rub the sting out.

“ _Shut your traps!_ ”

Dean and Sam both looked in the direction of Bobby's voice echoing across the salvage yard. The old man had wandered off toward his garage as soon as the angels flew them all to his house, still shaking off bits of cake as he went. His absence left the Winchesters and the angels to stand by a stack of cars and wait for him. Dean knew for a fact that Bobby was going to be right back; probably with a belt in hand or something. Poor guy, having all that cake smashed into his clothes. Dean couldn't blame him for being so pissed. It was a good thing they left the hotel so quickly, because Bobby would have probably blown the roof off the place.

“He seems a little tense,” Gabriel chimed, “I wonder why.”

The fire ignited in Dean's stomach as he turned to shoot a glare at the archangel standing next to Sam. Was the dude serious? Was this all still a big joke to him?! Even Sam was giving him a look of disbelief. Before Dean could spit out a very disgruntled retort, Cas swept passed him. The angel's eyes were intense, his shoulders were fixed, and he looked absolutely fed up. Dean knew from experience that this kind of anger could only be provoked out of Cas.

“This issue can no longer be handled with childish banter, Gabriel,” the angel growled, his deep voice sounding like tumbling boulders, “It is a very serious matter and you would do well to treat it as such.”

Everyone, especially Dean, was surprised at Cas's short tone. Dean was glad Cas seemed to be on his side of course, but he never expected Cas to scold Gabriel like that. Not after taking up for him the night before. Maybe Cas was just as pissed as Bobby. Gabriel flicked some of his syrup-soaked hair to the side to give Cas a raised eyebrow.

“Geez, Cassie, take a chill pill,” Gabriel said quietly, “Nobody got hurt.”

Cas took a firm step closer to Gabriel to stare him down with conviction. Even from a few feet away, Dean could see the rage and pain clearly in the angel's fierce blue eyes.

“ _I did_ ,” Cas hissed under his breath.

Sudden worry clouded over Dean as he watched Cas glaring at Gabriel. Wait, Cas had been hurt? When? Where was Dean when it happened? Who hurt him? As the questions piled up in Dean's mind, Cas finally released Gabriel's stare to step back. The angel walked over to Dean and started brushing the food off his shoulders. His sapphire eyes were focused on the man's clothes; furious, pained, and unwilling to meet Dean's stare. Protective concern was coursing through Dean's veins as he clutched Cas's coat.

“What happened, Cas?” Dean demanded, ready to tear apart the person responsible for causing him pain, “Who hurt you?”

It was only after exhaling slowly that Cas lifted his sight to meet Dean's eyes. He didn't say anything though, he just stared at Dean almost woefully... _Accusingly_... The longer their eyes stayed connected, the more sour Dean's stomach turned. Son of a bitch. It was _Dean_. _Dean_ had hurt Cas. The pain in the angel's face gave the man a stark reminder of his nightmare; of tears falling from Cas's precious eyes. Dean felt like a giant mound of shit all of the sudden. He never meant to hurt Cas. Not ever. What the hell did he do to upset his angel so much?

“Hey! Brady Bunch!”

Dean's head snapped in the direction of Bobby's voice, along with everyone else's. The old man was back again, just like Dean predicted. Under the bill of his cake-covered hat, Bobby's face was still red with embarrassment. He had a small cooler in one hand and was gesturing them over with the other.

“Get your bickerin' asses over here,” he spat, “Now.”

“Why?” Gabriel openly questioned, “Are you gonna spank us, Singer? That's pretty kinky for a man your age, isn't it?”

Dean briefly shot another glare at the trickster. Did that guy ever shut the hell up?! Luckily, Sam placed both of his huge hands on Gabriel's tiny shoulders and started walking him forward before Dean could waste his breath yelling.

“Gabe,” Sam sighed, “You dumped an entire three-tier cake on the man. The least you could do is hear him out.”

When Sam and Gabriel started off toward Bobby, Cas quickly pulled away from Dean to follow them. The angel seemed to be deliberately avoiding Dean's eyes now, like it was too painful to look at him. Unfortunately, Dean had been on the receiving end of behavior like this plenty of times before. Sam always giving him the silent treatment after an argument or their father ignoring him for days at a time. Dean was sort of used to being shut out – But not by Cas. And, God, it was so much worse when Cas was doing the shunning. The safest, most comforting place in the whole damn world was in Cas's eyes. How was Dean supposed to cope with this 'Gabriel' situation if he wasn't allowed to see them?

“Cas,” Dean whispered urgently, jogging up to tug on the angel's hand, “What did I do? Please, tell me. Are you pissed about me and Sam fighting or -”

“No, Dean. I don't mind you and Sam fighting. I know you'll get through it,” the angel replied in a hushed tone, never even glancing Dean's way, “because you two are _family_.”

Dean had been shot a few times in his life. He had been grazed by arrows and took a few bullets for the team. But Cas's words hurt more than every single gunshot wound he ever received, tenfold. God, why did Dean have to go and open his big mouth about Cas not being part of his family? He probably hurt the angel more than he knew by saying something to Sam about it. And it looked like apologies and explanations weren't gonna cut it this time.

Bobby led the group around a few stack of cars and to the entrance of his garage. Apparently, he had set up a little pow-wow; five chairs huddled together in a semi-circle. Dean rolled his eyes at the sight. Oh, what the hell. Was Bobby really going to try to turn this into an episode of Dr. Phil? Two chairs were close to each other on the right and two more were close on the left. And, when everyone approached the scene, Bobby sat his cooler near the lone chair in the front.

“Uh, musical chairs?” Gabriel asked, eying the seats, “Winner gets a beer and a lap dance?”

Bobby, who looked utterly done with the trickster's sarcastic comments, pointed a stern finger toward the seats on the left.

“Angels over there,” he demanded.

Gabriel gave a single chuckle, making Dean clinch his fists at the irritating sound.

“Who do I look like? Rosa Parks?” the archangel scoffed, shaking his sticky head, “You can't tell me where to sit, bub.”

Just as Dean was opening his mouth to spew hateful words at the trickster, Cas swooped passed him again. The angel strode up to Gabriel, took him by the arm, and started tugging him toward the chairs. Dean felt so sick, watching Cas walk away. There was a subtle slowness to the angel's movements, like he was forcing himself to do as Bobby requested. Dean had watched Cas's body move in almost every way possible – both clothed and naked – and he knew just from the angel's body language how upset he was. It must have been lover's intuition...

“Do not question Bobby Singer's methods, Gabriel,” Cas mumbled to the archangel.

Dean was surprised that Gabriel actually went with Cas. He was shuffling his feet and being childish about it of course, but he walked along anyway. About the same time the angels were stepping up to the chairs, something shiny caught Dean's eye. It was something small in Bobby's hand – a lighter, glistening in the sunlight. The old man struck the flint and lit the flame before tossing it on the ground.

And a ring of fire suddenly blazed a circle the angels.

Dean's heart leaped into his throat as he sucked in a shrill gasp. No! Not _fire_! Not around _Cas_! What the hell was Bobby doing?! Over the small fence of flames, Cas spun around and his wide eyes jutted up to meet Dean's, looking shocked, confused, and full of worry.

“ _Cas_!” Dean breathed, stumbling toward the fire without a second thought.

“ _Gabe_!” Sam called, running along-side his brother.

Bobby jumped in front of them, holding his hands up. Dean's fists were balled and he had the strong urge to swing at Bobby for even thinking about trapping Cas in a ring of holy fire, but he held back. Cas was _not_ burning alive right now, like he did in Dean's nightmare. The angel was just trapped. And that was the only thing keeping Dean from beating the shit out of anyone standing near him.

“Bobby, what the hell?!” Sam exclaimed, voicing Dean's thoughts.

“Look,” Bobby interrupted, glancing between the Winchesters, “ _Nobody_ is goin' _anywhere_ until all the cards are on the table. I'll let 'em go when I think you've earned the right to have 'em back.”

“Oh, so we're possessions, now?” Gabriel piped up from behind Bobby with a slight grin, “You are one kinky son of a bitch, Singer. You'll make some girl real happy one day.”

Bobby rolled his eyes at Gabriel's comment before shooing the Winchesters away from the fire. Dean caught Cas's eyes again over the flames. Thank God, they were back to looking at each other again. It took a semi-life-threatening situation to make it happen, but Dean was overwhelmingly glad to see those precious blue orbs staring back at him. Dean and Sam were both backing hesitantly away from the ring of fire, both unwilling to let their angels remain trapped. But what could they do? Bobby wasn't gonna let Cas or Gabriel go until they all participated in a hunter's rendition of the Oprah show.

“What was that about questioning Bobby Singer's methods, little bro?” Gabriel said snidely toward Cas.

Cas briefly glared at his angelic brother.

“Do not start with me, Gabriel,” he warned.

Dean and Sam slowly took their seats across from Bobby and watched him open up the cooler to dig around inside. The old man pulled out a cold glass of beer and snapped the cap off before taking a large swig. Afterward, he crossed his arms and glanced between the Winchesters and the angels.

“What are you waitin' for? An opening show-tune?” he asked, shrugging, “Start talkin'.”

Dean sighed loudly, hanging his head to rub his eyes. Oh, for the love of God. Why did things always have to result in a chick-flick moment? Why did everything always have to turn so damn dramatic? Why wasn't he in a motel room with Cas somewhere right now, having his ass pounded like there was no tomorrow? Why did he have to sit here and talk about his feelings?!

“This is bullshit,” Dean grumbled, raising his head again to glare at no one in particular, “Just let the freakin' angels go, Bobby. We've got better things to do than waste our time here.”

“I agree with Pinky,” Gabriel said, planting his hands in his hips, “I've got places to be and a moose to do. Somebody toss me a garden hose.”

Dean's glare turned lethal as his sight shot toward the archangel behind the flames. Ugh, even the sound of the stupid trickster's voice made Dean cringe with hatred.

“No one asked you,” the man barked, feeling bitter and angry.

An irritated sigh escaped Sam's mouth next to Dean.

“Okay, you know what? I'll go first,” the younger brother interrupted.

The kid slid forward in his chair to brace his elbows on his gigantic knees and take a large breath. Sam's head rolled toward Dean afterward, giving him a serious look. He was definitely about to speak his mind right now, to let Dean have an earful of his opinion. Dean gave a quick glance up at Cas's eyes just to make sure he could still see them. The angel looked as perfect as ever, standing there just watching. Dean only wished that he didn't have to look at Cas over a fence of flames...

“Dean,” Sam began, reclaiming the man's attention, “I wanna know what the hell you have against Gabriel. Why won't you give him a chance?”

“I did give him a chance, Sam,” Dean replied, “Remember? He filled the car full of mutts.”

“No, Dean. I'm not talking about just letting him come along on a case with us. I'm talking about getting to know him,” Sam corrected, “You didn't even try! You had one conversation and then you snubbed him from then on.”

“That's because he's an asshole!” Dean snapped.

“But, you're an asshole, too!” Sam yelled back, gesturing toward Dean like he was trying to point it out, “My God, you two could probably be best friends or something if you would just get over yourself and stop trying to push people away. Why is it so hard for you to let people in?!”

“The kid's got a point.”

Dean's wide eyes shot across the circle of chairs to Bobby. The old man had been listening to everything and apparently felt the need to butt-in. Dean felt like he was being attacked. Since when was everyone out to get him?! Did he need to start carrying a shield around with him like Captain freakin' America?!

“ _What?_ ” Dean sputtered, shocked at Bobby's interference.

“You never let anybody get close to you, son. And life is a dangerous road to walk alone,” Bobby said, his eyes misty and wise, “What's so wrong with adding people to your family, Dean?”

The mention of the word 'family' made Dean jump to his feet. His heart was picking up speed and his body was jittery, building a 'fight or flight' response inside him. He'd had enough of trying to run away from this damn subject. He'd had enough of trying to battle this thing from the inside. The urge to look up at Cas again was burning in Dean's chest, but he denied himself from doing it. No, he couldn't look at Cas right now; not when he knew his words were going to hurt the poor angel even more.

“I don't know if you've noticed, Sam, but everyone in our family is _dead_ ,” Dean spat, his fingers twitching at his sides as he stared boldly down at his little brother, “You can make-believe all you want that we weren't the cause of their deaths, but we _were_. You and I are just gonna keep getting people killed until we finally fall off the face of the earth -”

“Dean -”

“ _No, dammit! Let me speak!_ ” Dean shouted over Bobby, “Sam, the closer you get to that archangel, the worse its going to be! I'm not gonna stand by and watch you get your heart broken _again_! I'm not gonna let anyone else be included in this family, just to let them die, okay?! _I'm not gonna let them die!_ ”

Dean's eyes had been wandering the whole time he was speaking and they finally fell on Cas's precious face at the end of his sentence. The angel looked so damn guilty now, so full of grief and worry. Dean's heart was pounding against his ribcage as he stared at his angel over the flames. He truly hoped Cas could see the apology in his eyes and how much it killed him to keep Cas at a safe distance instead of letting him come any closer.

“I – I don't want you to _die_ , Cas,” the man confessed, his voice cracking.

The angel appeared more concerned than ever. Cas took a single step toward the flames as if he was prepared to walk through it just to get to Dean. And everything in Dean's soul wanted to rip through the thin line of fire, too, and bury himself in the angel's arms. But his mind and body were dead-set against it. Sick of fighting with himself, Dean ripped his blurry sight away from the holy sapphires of Cas's eyes and started away from the group. Bobby and Sam could call his name all they wanted, but he sure as hell wasn't going to turn around.

For a moment, Dean was just wandering around the salvage yard with tears swelling in his eyes. He knew Cas was probably upset, even more than he was before. At least the angel knew, now, why Dean didn't want to include him in his family. It was more of a death sentence, really. That was the price everyone had to pay if they wanted to get close to Dean. Maybe it would be better for Cas to leave on his own now, while he still had the chance...

A searing painful ache raced across Dean's heart all of the sudden, so powerful that he stumbled against a crushed van and slid down the metal to sit on the ground. The man huffed a few raspy breaths as the tears spilled out of his eyes. Oh, God. He didn't want Cas to leave him. Cas made him so damn happy, made him feel loved and appreciated and worth something. If Dean's angel went away, what would be left of him?

_Nothing_ , John Winchester's voice echoed from the back of Dean's mind.

Dean gulped at the remembrance of his father's cold tone. That's right. Dean would be nothing. Just like before Cas came into his life, Dean would be the broken shell of a man that his father had created him to be. Dean would take care of Sam, and hunt monsters, and follow the orders he was given as a child until his heart finally gave out. No more Cas meant no more Dean... Just like Romeo and Juliet...

Just as Dean was getting lost in his head imagining a terrible future without his angel, a shadow grew on the ground in front of him. A person was approaching from his right, making the dark figure stretch and move. Dean assumed it was Sam or Bobby probably coming over to talk him back into rejoining the pow-wow. But the voice that spoke wasn't from either of them.

“Whoa, man,” Gabriel said quietly, shuffling his steps, “That was deep. Like, 'Pink Floyd' deep. It gave me a headache just thinking about it.”

Dean exhaled audibly as he furiously wiped his wet eyes. Shit. Not _this_ prick. Why the hell was _he_ here? How did he get out of the fire trap? Dean quickly bent his knees up to hug them in order to shrink away from the archangel loitering nearby.

“Piss off,” Dean warned, though it came out as an irritated grumble.

“Easy there, Rambo. I just came to give you a beer,” he replied.

Though Dean was strongly considering just ignoring the archangel until he left, the man forced his eyes to look up at Gabriel. The dude was holding a cold beer bottle toward him and smiling softly. Dean's pride didn't want him to take it, especially since it was from the guy who had made his life hell for the past few days. But, man, Dean really needed a beer right now...

Only after swallowing his pride and rolling his eyes did Dean take the bottle. He sort of ripped it out of Gabriel's hand and twisted the cap off in a single fluid motion. A small whiff of alcohol filled his nose instantly, making his mouth water. Thank God for fermentation... As Dean brought the icy bottle to his lips to take a sip, Gabriel sighed and eased down to sit on the ground next to him. Oh, great. It wasn't enough for the trickster to get all up in Sam's personal space, so now he had to get in Dean's, too? This was the shittiest day ever...

“Mind if I drink with you, Winchester?” the archangel asked, sounding chipper.

Dean didn't answer. He just took a larger drink of his beer and averted his eyes. Gabriel was probably the last person on earth he wanted to drink with, but what was the alternative? Drinking alone?

“Hey. Um, Dean,” the archangel said lowly, cracking the cap off his own bottle, “Did you know that your brother thinks he's a curse?”

Dean blinked and actually tilted his head back to look at Gabriel. To the man's great shock, the archangel looked serious for once, nodding boldly and frowning. Dean knew that Sam had some self-esteem issues, but he didn't know the kid thought he was a curse. And the notion couldn't be more untrue. Actually, Dean thought of Sam as a _blessing_. The greatest gift Dean could think of was having Sam for a brother. Gabriel huffed another sigh.

“Yep. Sammy-boy thinks _he's_ the reason everyone in your family is dead,” the archangel went on, “but I'm gonna tell you the same thing I told him. Well, not the _exact_ same thing. I mean, it was sort of sexual with us, and we were kind of naked when I said it,” Gabriel paused to shake his head, probably seeing Dean's glare, “Anyway, the thing I told him was that I'm an archangel. And it takes more than a tiny knock on Death's door to kill me.”

“Good for you,” Dean mumbled, slowly turning his beer bottle, “but that's got nothing to do with me.”

“Actually, kid, it does,” Gabriel said, raising an eyebrow as he brought his own bottle to his lips, “See, I'm an angel, just like – Ugh! Ew,” the archangel paused to cough, eying his beer, “I forgot how shitty beer is. There's no sugar in here at all! How the hell do you even drink this? It tastes like a camel's asshole!”

“How do you know what a camel's asshole tastes like?” Dean asked, seeing the opportunity and taking it.

“Dude, don't get me started on Egyptian festivals, okay? You don't want to know about the freaky shit that goes down in those things,” the archangel said, sitting his beer off to the side, “Anyway, the point I'm trying to make is that little Cassie is an angel just like me. Granted, not as powerful as me, but he's still pretty bad-ass on his own. Now, you and Sammy-boy might think you are curses that will bring a plague upon both our houses,” – The hair on the back of Dean's neck stood up at the Romeo and Juliet quote – “but you won't. Cas isn't gonna abandon you, just because you think you might get him killed. Hell, the kid's already died for you plenty of times. Pretty sure he wouldn't mind doing it again.”

“He shouldn't have to,” Dean said remorsefully, picking at the label on his beer bottle.

“But he would,” Gabriel insisted, a smirk playing on his lips, “I don't think you know how much influence you have on my brother, pal. Listen, if Cas was a teenage girl, his room would be decked out with giant posters of your face, okay? He would scribble your name all over his notebooks, and dig your tissues out of the trash to keep them, and repeatedly beg you to go to prom with him.”

A tiny chuckle actually left Dean's smiling lips at the thought. It was a strange notion; Cas adoring him like a teenage girl with a crush. Dean knew their love was deeper than that, though. It wasn't just some passing phase... Dean lifted his sight to the archangel next him and actually took the time to meet Gabriel's golden eyes.

“I love your brother,” the man muttered, finding it surprisingly easy to say to the trickster.

Gabriel's smirk grew.

“Oh? Do tell,” he encouraged.

* * *

Castiel shifted impatiently on his feet as he stared toward the long row of stacked vehicles among the salvage yard. It had been a few minutes since Bobby had put out the fire and released the angels. Gabriel requested to be the person to go and retrieve Dean, and while Castiel had doubts about the archangel's ability to persuade the man to return, Sam felt that Gabriel could accomplish the task. But several minutes had passed by without a sign of either of them coming back and Castiel was beginning to worry.

Actually, Castiel had been worried since before Dean had wandered off. He felt guilty too, about causing Dean stress over the term 'family.' Castiel only wanted to be included in Dean's life. The angel did not know that Dean found it to be a cause of death. Hearing Dean shout with such conviction and fear made Castiel feel utter sorrow. It wasn't good for Dean to continue labeling himself as the cause of everyone's deaths. Wasn't there anything Castiel could do to make him see how precious he was? And how much he meant to those around him? Sam and Bobby were talking lowly to one another, seeming indifferent to Gabriel and Dean's continued absence.

“I'm going to see Dean,” the angel finally spat, unable to hold off any longer.

Before Sam and Bobby had the chance to pester him about staying, Castiel shielded his vessel from sight. Turning invisible was a trick that Cas practiced over time and felt it would come in handy in this situation. Once unseen, the angel bolted down the long row of vehicles in search of Dean and Gabriel. In the back of his mind, Castiel attempted to prepare his words. First, he was going to apologize to Dean for his excessive nagging over being accepted into the man's family. Second, Castiel was going to try his best to explain that Dean was not the terrible monster he always depicted himself as, no matter how much he believed it to be true.

The words were turning over and over in the angel's mind when he finally caught sight of Dean and Gabriel. The two of them were sitting on the ground against a crushed van, both holding beverages and talking. The sight took Castiel by utter surprise. Dean and Gabriel were actually speaking to one another? And Dean was actually smiling? For a moment, Castiel thought Gabriel had put a spell on Dean because he knew the man would not humor the archangel in the past. But as Cas took a step closer to the pair, he found that there was no spell at all. Just a genuine, peaceful conversation.

“I love your bother,” Dean said quietly, his lovely voice giving Castiel comfort.

“Oh?” Gabriel mused, “Do tell.”

Dean's soft emerald eyes fell to the bottle in his hands and a meaningful smirk was playing on his pouted lips. Castiel remained invisible a few feet away, unwilling to interrupt Dean and Gabriel's personal moment. The angel silently listened for Dean's reply.

“He... He makes me feel like I'm worth something. Even though, all my life, I've felt like nothing,” Dean seemed to admit openly to Gabriel, “Cas just has this way of making me feel loved. It's good sometimes, you know? And he doesn't even have to say anything. I can just feel the love coming off him when he's in the room. All I have to do is look up at him and see his blue eyes looking back, and I feel safe again. I feel like I'm home.”

A rush of chemicals swept through Castiel's vessel at Dean's words. Did Cas really comfort Dean that much? Without having to say a word?

“God, that sounds so cheesy,” the man added, seeming embarrassed as he took a drink from his bottle.

“Nah,” Gabriel dismissed, shaking his head, “You haven't heard cheesy 'til you've listened to me and the moose at bedtime. That kid's a total sap. I'm sure baby-bird is the same way.”

“No, Cas isn't a sap,” Dean replied softly, his emerald stare growing pensive and his lips curving upward, “Cas is genuine. Everything he does comes straight from the heart and I just try not to mess things up. God, he's so pure. I don't deserve him. Honestly, I don't. It's like Cas is Beyonce and I'm just one of the back-up singers.”

While Gabriel gave a chuckle at Dean's statement, a small pain flickered in Castiel's chest. How could Dean think so lowly of himself? And how could the man think so highly of Castiel? Cas found the entire notion to be completely absurd and backward. No, it was _Castiel_ that didn't deserve _Dean_. Dean was the one who saved lives, and did not think twice about putting others before himself, and tried his best every day to make the world and all its people safe. And Castiel was the one who made the bad decisions, even when his intentions were good, and left behind chaos in his wake. Dean was so important to Castiel and to everyone. Why couldn't the man see it?

Unable to hold back any longer, Castiel allowed his vessel to become visible again. The angel appeared a few feet in front of Dean and Gabriel, who noticed his presence instantly. Dean's green eyes flashed wide and his mouth tilted open. Gabriel, on the other hand, seemed like he had been aware of Castiel the entire time. Cas strode quickly toward the van and the archangel and the man seemed to immediately climb to their feet. Castiel was completely focused on Dean though; focused on trying to prove a point to him.

“Cas,” Dean breathed, eying the angel's whole form bounding toward him, “I – I'm sorry about -”

Castiel silenced the man with a fierce kiss, bringing their mouths together with a swift and stern pull. The angel cradled the back of the man's head while their tongues slipped in and out of each others' mouths, holding him as close as possible. Dean's hands clutched at the front of Castiel's coat tenderly, like a child clinging to a beloved possession. Cas truly hoped this act would be enough to convince Dean, if only for a moment, that he was not a burden, or a curse, or worthless. To Castiel, Dean meant everything.

“Wow, you guys don't hold back at all, do you?” Gabriel mumbled, stepping away awkwardly, “Are you gonna come up for air or what?”

Dean and Castiel's lips did not part for Gabriel's words. On the contrary, their kiss strengthened even more, deepening to incorporate large amounts of tongue and lips. Castiel wasn't planning to let go until Dean was fully satisfied and willing.

“Well, uh, okay then,” Gabriel said, exhaling loudly, “My work here is done, I guess. Nice talk, Pinky. We should chat again sometime.”

Castiel was briefly aware that the archangel flew away, but most of his attention was still on Dean; on catering to the man's nursing mouth and enduring grip. Their moist embrace lasted for a few more moments before Castiel hesitantly pulled back. The angel felt he needed to communicate his emotions, try to say what he had been thinking during Dean and Gabriel's conversation.

“You're wrong, Dean,” Castiel said, remembering the man's earlier comment, “ _You_ are Beyonce.”

A breathtaking smile appeared on Dean's darkened wet lips. He seemed to find Cas's statement humorous, even though the angel was being serious.

“Do you even know who Beyonce is, Cas?” the man asked, resting his forehead on the angel's.

“No,” Castiel admitted, “but he sounds important.”

Dean's laugh caused a smile to flicker on Cas's own lips. The angel was glad to give Dean a reason to be delighted, even if it was unintentional. And while his happiness warmed Castiel's heart, the angel knew there was more to say.

“Dean,” the angel said, cupping the side of the man's warm face, “Forgive me for being so insistent. Had I known that family was such a sensitive issue to you, I would have ceased my efforts for -”

“Cas, baby,” Dean interrupted, shaking his head, “I _do_ want you to be part of my family. More than anything. I just... I don't want to lose you, man. You're too important to me.”

The subtle hint of terror underlying Dean's voice upset Castiel. At once, the angel took hold of both of the man's hands and grasped them firmly with his own. With their fingers locked, Cas brought his sight to Dean's lovely emeralds to search his beautiful soul.

“I promise that I will _never_ leave your side, Dean,” Castiel vowed, “There is no force in this universe that could part me from you. I will be with you from now until the end of time, no matter what events occur in between. I _love_ you, Dean, more than anything else my father has ever created. You are more valuable than all the treasure mankind has ever cultivated, and mean more to me than my own kin. Please do not measure your worth by the terrible fates that have befallen your loved ones. Their deaths were not of your making, Dean. You are far too precious to consider yourself a curse. You say you'd fall apart without me, yes? Well, I feel the same way about you. Dean, I care for you so deeply, that tides would rise and fall for centuries before my love could ever be put into words. Please, believe me. My love for you has no end.”

A small tear raced down the man's cheek, running a wet line over his jaw. Cas couldn't remember a time when Dean's eyes were so open and clear. The angel's words must have made an impact on him, because he appeared momentarily starstruck; mouth open and pupils dilated. Every single word Castiel spoke was true. And he truly hoped Dean found comfort in his small speech. After a moment, the man leaned forward to join their lips again. This kiss was softer than the first, harboring sincerity and tenderness.

“I love you so damn much, Cas,” Dean eased back to whisper affectionately, sounding like he couldn't find anymore words.

Castiel smiled and pulled the man into a tighter embrace, remembering all the wonderful things Dean had said to Gabriel.

“I know,” the angel replied.

* * *

Dean had a hold of Cas's hand when they walked into Bobby's kitchen. The man had quickly wiped all the moisture off his face – making sure the guys wouldn't be able to notice that he'd been crying – before coming in. Bobby and Sam were sitting at the table and Gabriel had made a cozy little seat out of Sam's lap. All three of them looked in Dean and Cas's direction when they entered the room. Dean couldn't help but feel a little embarrassed at all the stares. They couldn't see how much he had been crying, right? Because he was totally over it now...

“Why, hello there, fellas,” Gabriel welcomed them, giving a little wave, “We were just talking about you.”

Cas was suddenly raising Dean's hand. The man looked over to see the angel pulling his hand up to press a kiss to the back of it. A tiny tingle raced up Dean's arm at the feeling of Cas's moist lips on his skin. Why was Cas kissing his hand? Apparently, the question had been written in Dean's face.

“I believe Gabriel and I should return to the hotel,” Cas answered, turning his sight toward his angelic brother, “The Impala is still there and we left the dining area in complete disarray.”

Dean didn't want Cas to leave. Hell, he _never_ wanted Cas to leave, even if it was just for two seconds. But after remembering all those poor kids and that huge room covered in food, Dean carefully let go of the angel's hand. Yeah, that mess needed cleaned up. Gabriel groaned loudly, like a ten-year-old who had just been told to clean his room.

“Ugh! Okay, fine,” he sighed, dragging himself out of Sam's lap, “Don't gallop away, moose. I'll be right back.”

“Okay. I'll be here,” Sam smiled, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the table.

Dean looked up at Cas one last time, searching the angel's eyes for every last drop of comfort he could get. And Cas seemed to be visually assuring him, nodding a little and giving a small smile. The angel would be back, of course. He would always come back... After Gabriel made his way over to Cas, the two angels flew away from the room, leaving the humans to linger in strange silence. Dean had to blink several times to get a grip on where he was. Bobby's kitchen, that's right. The man wandered toward the refrigerator in search of another beer.

“So, you and Gabe talked?”

Dean looked up at his little brother as he grabbed a brown bottle out of the fridge. Sam was smiling like he had just saved a town full of people. Dean could tell the kid was eager to hear about it. Maybe he was proud of himself for making the conversation happen or something. A smile was fighting to flicker on Dean's own lips when he turned around and sighed.

“I wouldn't say we talked,” Dean answered, snapping the cap from the beer, “More like _he_ talked and _I_ was forced to listen.”

Sammy chuckled.

“That sounds about right,” he nodded.

As Dean raised the bottle to take a drink, he caught sight of the archway that led to the study. Bobby had closed the giant door between the two rooms. Dean glanced strangely between the old man at the table and the black door. Why did Bobby close it? Was something wrong with the study?

“You trying to hide some bodies in there or something?” Dean asked, pulling up a chair at the table.

Bobby gave a quick glance at the door and Dean could have swore he saw a red tint cross the man's face underneath his beard.

“None of yer business,” the old man grumbled, crossing his arms.

Dean looked toward Sam, hoping to see an actual answer, but he just shrugged his shoulders. For a moment, the three of them were pretty quiet, each looking away and thinking their own thoughts. Dean's mind was set on Cas of course, about how lucky he was to have someone like Cas in his life. And Dean was happy for Sammy, too. Gabriel could be a flat-out asshole at times, but Dean had to admit the trickster was starting to crossover from the dark side. As long as Gabriel kept Sam happy, Dean would probably be okay with him... He guessed. A funny thought passed through Dean's head, making a chuckle fall out of his mouth.

“What?” Sam asked, having heard his laugh.

“Nothing. It's just...” Dean trailed off, shaking his head, “I never thought we'd fall in love with _dudes_.”

Sam gave a small laugh at Dean's statement, appearing just as surprised.

“Or _angels_ ,” he added, agreeing with the bizarreness.

“Or _demons_ ,” Bobby huffed under his breath.

Dean and Sam's smiles faded away as they stared at each other. Wait, did Bobby just say _demons_? What the hell was he talking about? The brothers both turned to look at the older man at the table, trying to figure out why he said it. Bobby's face had grown bright red, like he had just been caught saying a curse word in front of his parents. Steam was practically rolling off the top of his hat.

“Bobby,” Sam breathed, leaning forward, “Did – did you just say - ?”

“Nope,” Bobby denied, quickly getting up from the table, “I didn't say a damn word.”

As the old man walked by, Dean caught sight of the closed door again and his curiosity spiked.

“What's behind the door, Bobby?” Dean called, watching Bobby dash away, “Dammit, Bobby! Get back here!”

But it was too late. The man had flown out of the room like an old lady running to collect her cash after winning a bingo game. Dean instantly looked back at his brother at the table and was met with the same face of surprise. Well, holy shit. Bobby had a secret. The Winchesters knew for sure that Bobby was hiding something.

Something that had to do with a demon...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gee. I wonder what demon Bobby could be talking about... ;) As you can see, things between Dean and Gabriel are going to be getting much better from here. Like Sammy said, they're so alike they could be best friends. ;) And after being comforted by the Trickster and hearing Cas's loving vow, I don't think Dean will have any trouble accepting Cas into his family. :) I hope you guys all enjoyed this installment! The next - and final - part of this series will be started tomorrow, and I hope you stick around to read some more! Thank you all so much for following this story from the beginning and staying with me through all the drama. <3 I'll see you in part Six! :)


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